WARNING!!!!! THIS STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC SNUFF.  IT IS VIOLENT AND BLOODY.  IT ALSO CONTAINS SOME BEASTIALITY.  THE VICTIMS ARE MOST DEFINITELY NOT WILLING PARTICIPANTS. IF THIS IS NOT YOUR KIND OF STORY TURN BACK NOW.  IF IT IS SOMETHING YOU MIGHT LIKE, READ ON.

REMEMBER THOUGH, THIS IS FANTASY.  IF YOU HAVE DIFFICULTY SEPARATING THE REAL WORLD AND FANTASY, AND BELIEVE THAT DOING THIS TO SOMEONE MIGHT BE OKAY, PLEASE GET YOUR HEAD EXAMINED.  I RECOMMEND HAVING SOMEONE DO IT WITH A HACKSAW.

THANKS AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS.

An additional note: If you have not read "The Debt" (the predecessor to this tale), this one may not make a lot of sense.  Go back and read that one first.  If you have already read it, then I hope you enjoy this conclusion to the tale.

The Debt II

Bangkok, Thailand

       A man walked through the door of the building. It was a filthy establishment. He looked to the stage and saw a young woman - sixteen or seventeen by the looks - being raped. She was fighting it, but it was obvious that the men would have their way regardless of how she felt.

       The man approached the bar. He ordered a whisky and got it, in a glass so filthy he was almost afraid to drink it.

       "What the hell," he thought. "If this doesn't kill me, the damn cirrhosis will."

       Looking at the stage, he waved to the bartender.

       "I thought there were three sisters working here," he said in heavily accented Thai.

       "They are up next," the bartender said. "In about five minutes from the look of it."

       The girl was choking. One of her rapists had shoved his dick too far down her throat and was having difficulty getting it back out. As the audience watched, she turned blue, went into convulsions, and died. To the man's amazement, at least half of the audience was clapping politely. This definitely was a strange culture.

       After the stage was cleaned up, three young women came out. According to the MC, they were sisters. They were Elizabeth (20 years old), Melinda (18 years old), and Amy (17 years old). Other than the man, they were the only white people in the Asian-filled building.

       The oldest one waved at someone off-stage and a man came out leading a horse. After tying reins to a ring in the floor, the man left. Elizabeth immediately sunk to her knees and started sucking the horse's dick. While she was doing that, Melinda opened a can of lard someone had handed her and started coating her right hand and forearm. Once the arm was completely covered, the 18-year-old started forcing her arm up her sister's ass. The fact that it did not require too much effort (and the fact that Elizabeth never slowed down as she continued giving the horse a blowjob) indicated that this was not the first time the 20-year-old had had that done to her.

       The youngest sister, Amy, started working her fist into Elizabeth's pussy. none of the girls looked overly enthusiastic, but they were not fighting it either.

       "They do this every night," the man asked the bartender.

       "Yes. Every night. They switch places though. Tonight it is the eldest fucking the horse. Last night it was the middle one."        

       "Do you rent them out to customers?"

       "Of course. How many of them and how long?"

       "All three from whenever they are done on stage until tomorrow morning."

       "That will be $300 dollars American."

       "And if I kill them?"

       "Then you kill them. It is the New Year tonight. There will be enough noise that no one will hear you. Normally, I would raise the price, but those three are so loose, that they cannot please a man anymore. I need to replace them anyway. Are you sure you want them?"

       The man had already fished out $500 dollars.

       "I want them. Can you end their show early?"

       The bartender looked at the money in front of him.

       "Certainly. Have a nice night, mister."

       "I will try. It looks like it will be a good one."

       Ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door. The man opened it and the three young ladies walked in. He was using a room loaned to him by the bartender. The fact that it had a TV and VCR was great. Looking at the three girls, he motioned for them to remove their clothes. They did so. The man was stunned. They were as beautiful as their mother had been.

       "Hello girls," he said. "My name is Ed. Have a seat. We are going to watch a few short films and then have some fun."

       "Are you going to kill us, now," Elizabeth asked.

       Ed looked at the girl. She was beautiful, but the look in her eyes was all but dead. Considering the things that could happen in this room tonight, Ed realized that killing her was not the worst of them.

       

       "Do you want me to kill you?"

       "Not really," Melinda replied, "but normally, when a show is cancelled early, the girl goes to meet a 'guest' and never returns."

       "Well," Ed replied, "to answer your question, no. I have no plans to kill you. I was telling you the truth earlier. We are going to watch a few movies. Then, in about 90 minutes, we are going to have some fun. Well, 'fun' may not be the right word, but you will see."

       "Are they movies we really want to see," Melinda asked.

       "What do you mean?"

       "They make movies here," Amy said. "Movies where they kill girls. It happens when the girls have been here for a while and the men are not paying to rent them anymore. That is why Elizabeth asked if you were going to kill us. It will happen to us soon."

       

       Ed shuddered. They obviously knew about snuff films. They were expecting to be killed in the making of them. He was not so sure that showing the films was such a good idea, after all.

       "Um," he said, "I do not know if you recognize me, but I am......"

       "Uncle Ed," Amy said. "Dad's boss from back in America."

       "That's right," he replied, surprised. "I didn't think you would remember."

       "Never mind that," Elizabeth said. "You wanted to show us some movies. What are they? Your reluctance to answer Melinda's question tells me that they are not movies we would want to see, but you already knew that. Why are you here, Ed?"

       Ed looked at Elizabeth. The dead look in her eyes was gone. There was a kind of fury smoldering there, now. She was very intelligent. She was able to see that he had a hidden agenda. She was also – perhaps most dangerously – very, very pissed.

       He sighed and set the movies down. Walking to the door, he locked both deadbolts and put the bar on the door.

       "That is a useless gesture," Amy said with a harsh chuckle. "If they want in here, they will just come through the wall. The walls are paper-thin."

       "Whatever," Ed said. "You are right, Elizabeth. They are not movies you want to see. They are movies of people being killed. I need you to see them so I can give you a better understanding of the situation."

       "I don't know," he continued, "if you will....."

       "Just shut up and start the movies."

       Ed shook his head in sorrow and started the first movie. If he expected shock or grief to move the girls when they saw their mother kill their eldest sister, he was disappointed. After the movie ended, he removed the tape and look at the girls.

       "I am sor....."

       "Put in the next one," Amy said, cutting him off.

       The second was even worse than the first. Ed had hated this one most of all. The sick things the girl's mother had been forced to do to her.... It made him ill just watching it. After a few moments, he ran to the bathroom and threw up noisily. The girls ignored him.

       Seeing the look the girls gave him as the second movie ended, he just ejected the tape and put in the third movie. The girls watched in silence. If they were confused at the lack of sound in this one, they did not show it. When it was over, Ed pulled the tape and put all three movies back in his briefcase. Looking at his watch, he realized they still had 25 minutes before the excitement began.

       "I am sorry you had to find out this way," Ed said, "but your sisters and mother have been dead for eight years now."

       "We knew," Amy said. "The men who brought us here were joking about it."

       "What," Ed asked, astonishment clear in his tone. "You knew?"

       "For eight years, now," Melinda replied.

       "Perhaps," Elizabeth said, her voice full of menace, "you should tell us how you came by those movies and how you found us."

       Ed was no fool. The girls were naked and there were no apparent weapons handy. This girl, however, could possibly kill him if she felt the urge. Looking at her, he sighed and nodded.

       "I will tell you everything I can," he said. "There is, however, a problem."

       

       Looking around, he found a pen and paper. Cautiously scanning the room for cameras, he found none. Elizabeth, understanding his concern grabbed the pen and paper.

       "There are no cameras in here," she wrote. "They have a studio somewhere in the city for the films, but there are too many thieves in this area."

       "In 20 minutes," Ed wrote after a quick look at his watch, "there will be a loud commotion in the bar. There will be shooting and yelling. We will go out that window by the bathroom."

       

       The two younger sisters, trusting their older sister to tell them what they needed to know, realized it was too quiet in the room and started making love to each other. The noise would satisfy anyone listening in from outside the door. Melinda motioned to her sister and they moved closer to Ed and Elizabeth so Melinda could give him a blowjob. His grunts of pleasure only added to the noise.

       Elizabeth smiled as she looked at her younger sisters. They were quick.

       "It was too quiet in here," Elizabeth wrote as Ed gave her an incredulous look.

       "I see," Ed wrote as he realized that the girls were right.

       "Anyway," Elizabeth scrawled, "we are on the second floor. We cannot get out that window."

       "We will," Ed replied with a smile. "A friend of mine will be waiting with a cart right below the window. He works with a laundry service and the cart will be full of sheets. We will jump onto the pile of sheets and get away from here. You and your sister will hide under the pile."

       "And where are we going?"

       "America."

       "How?"

       "We will go from here to the airport and then we will fly to Los Angeles. I have a private jet standing by."

       

       Further discussion was interrupted as a riot became audible below. There were heavy footfalls outside the door as the guards ran to the bar to investigate. Ed quickly pulled up his pants and moved to the window.

       With a sigh of relief, he saw his friend waiting below the window. Scanning the street and windows, he saw no one who would be able to report the incident. Waving to the girls, he jumped out the window and landed in the cart. He looked up to the window and, seeing the three girls there, waved again.

       Ignoring their current state of undress, the girls followed Ed's example and were soon buried under a pile of dirty sheets as they were carried to the airport.

-----

       "Wow," Amy said as she exited the shower. "I didn't know that you could have a shower on an airplane."

       Amy was the last of the three sisters to enjoy the shower. When Ed said he had a private jet, he was not kidding. When they had arrived at the airport, they were rushed into the plane so quickly, it was doubtful anyone noticed that the white 'dresses' they wore were actually sheets.

       Within five minutes of boarding the plane, they were airborne. Now, three hours later, they were on their way to Tokyo, where they would catch a flight on ANA (All Nippon Airways). The flight from Tokyo to Los Angeles would take a little under 10 hours.

       "It is a new development," Ed said with a smile. "Emirate Airlines introduced showers in their big A380s in 2008. In a smaller plane like this, it was relatively easy to get an engineering firm to build a shower into it. What was difficult was getting the necessary waivers to allow it."

       "Well," Elizabeth said, "it has been years since we have been this clean. So, 'Uncle Ed', what now?"

       Ed knew this was coming, but he still has not sure how to say it.

       "Um, what do you remember of your last few days in America?"

       "Well," Melinda said, "our father had just died. Mom went to his funeral. While she was gone, Michelle was in charge. Then some guys from dad's office came and picked us up to take us to your place. We were on our way to a mall, I think, when a white van hit the car we were in and we were......I don't know. I blacked out and woke up on an airplane."

       "Same here," Elizabeth agreed as Amy just nodded.

       "Ok," Ed said with a heavy sigh. "You know that it was your mother who killed Michelle and Elaine, right?"

       "That was what was shown on the tapes," Elizabeth said angrily.

       "And you saw her killed on the last tape by a masked person."

       "Yes," Elizabeth replied.

       "She was doing it to save your lives. She thought I was going to adopt you."

       "Huh," Amy asked, confused. "She killed Chelly and Lany to save us? I don't get it."

       "The people who abducted you, your mother, and your sisters told your mother that your father had been stealing from the company. He had stolen quite a bit and now the company wanted the money back."

       "But dad is dead."

       "Right," Ed said. "That is why they gave your mother a couple of options. They were going to kill her and sell the tape on the black market to raise the money. Killing a 30-something woman, however, would not sell for a lot. Having the 30-something woman kill her own daughter on tape......now that would sell."

       "That is fucking sick," Elizabeth said disgustedly.

       "I happen to agree," Ed continued. "The options they gave your mother were to kill Elaine and Michelle and allow it to be filmed, or, refuse to cooperate and let the abductors kill all of you on film. Seeing that Michelle and Elaine were going to die either way, your mother chose the way that would save you three."

       "Damn," muttered Elizabeth, her anger fading a bit.

       Ed was almost surprised when he saw the tears begin. The girls had hardened themselves to the point where they could take practically anything, but their mother's decision still hit them hard. Wanting to give the girls a few minutes to digest what he had said, he left to speak with the flight attendant.

       

       "So," Elizabeth said when Ed returned, "we were supposed to be adopted by you. What happened?"

       "Well," Ed said, "this is where the story gets bad. Before we go further, though, a few questions."

       "Ok," Elizabeth said, her patience growing thin. "What are they?"

       "What was your mother like?"

       "Huh? Mom? Uh, she was like most moms. We had a maid that helped out, but mom did most of the cleaning and cooking. I know she was always there for school events."

       "Did she work outside of the home?"

       "Hmmm. No. I kind of remember her having a fight with dad about it once. She wanted to go back to work, but he said her place was in the home raising us kids."

       "That sounds like the Amanda I knew."

       "So, spill it, Ed. What don't we know?"

       "Okay. Your mother and sisters were killed because of an affair your father had with another woman. He stole nothing from the company."

       "What," Melinda asked. "An affair?"

       "Yes. Your father wanted a son. He wanted a son more than anything. His wife, however only gave him daughters. After five daughters, she said ‘no more’. Five kids were enough for her."

       "That, however," continued Ed, "did not stop your father's desire for a son. While he was at work, he met a woman he found attractive. She was receptive of his advances and they soon were meeting after hours to have sex. To his delight, he got her pregnant and they discovered that it was going to be a boy."

       "But mom....."

       "That is right. Your mother. If your father wanted to have a legitimate son, he would have to marry the woman before the boy was born. He was thinking about divorcing your mother when he died."

       "The woman," he continued, "convinced that your mother was to blame for his heart condition, arranged everything. She arranged to have your mother kidnapped and killed. She arranged the deaths of your sisters. Lastly, she arranged for you to spend the last eight years in that bar."

       "How did you find out about all this, Uncle Ed," Amy asked. "How did you find us?"

       "That," he replied sadly, "was easy. I knew where you were for the last eight years. Not the precise bar, but I knew you were being forced to do those things somewhere in that city. I knew, you see, because the woman is my own daughter, Alanna, and I helped her."

       

       That was it. Elizabeth snapped and lunged for Ed. As fast as she was, however, she was seated while her younger sisters were still standing. The younger girls quickly grabbed their out-of-control big sister and pinned her down.

       "Let him talk, Liz," Amy said. "Let him talk."

       "I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, OLD MAN," screamed Elizabeth.

       "Shut up, Liz," Melinda said as she slapped her big sister's face. "I am sure he has a reason for his actions. And he did get us out of that hellhole."

       "You better have a reason, Ed," Melinda continued. "If you don't, I will kill you myself; even if you did rescue us."

       Elizabeth, no longer hysterical, glared at Ed. She nodded at Melinda and Amy, letting them know it was safe to let her go. The younger girls released her and she sat up. Still glaring, she waited for him to go on.

       "If you really want to kill me, Elizabeth, I will allow it. I have cirrhosis and it is starting to affect my kidneys. This can result in acute renal failure. Death, in other words. I know it will happen sooner or later. Right now, I am still able to care for myself and move around on my own. As the disease progresses, I may lose that. I would rather die than be an invalid."

       "But," he continued, "I have more information for you that you will want. When we are done with our business together, then I will let you do what you want. And, for your information, I did have reason for my actions."

       "When your father was a boy, he was like a son to me. I knew your mother as a chid because her father was a partner in my law firm. Your mother did not know my daughter, but your father played with her a lot. When your father died, it was like my own boy had died."

       "If you knew our mother," Melinda asked, "how could you help your daughter kill her like that?"

       "I knew about the affair. Your father and my daughter often met at my place for their......."

       "We get it," Amy said.

       "Anyway," Ed continued, "they both told me of how your mother was killing your father. She was refusing to go back to work. She was refusing to cook or clean around the house. She had a maid in 7 days a week and it was the maid that cared for you and everything."

       "They painted her out to be a user. And when your father had his first heart attack, it was described as a result of stress caused by your mother. By the time he had his fourth heart attack, the one that killed him, I was convinced your mother was as bad as they were saying."

       "So," Melinda asked, "what made you change your mind?"

       "About a year ago, I made a discovery. I met your maid at a local grocery store and I struck a conversation about your family. The poor woman was most informative. She told me several things, some of which you just confirmed. One of these things was that your mother was not staying at home by her own wishes."

       "When I discovered that your mother was not the person described by your father and my daughter, I did some more digging. Everything they had told me about your mother was a lie. I decided to confront my Alanna."

       "For several years, now, she has been living in Italy. She would come back occasionally to get money. I am the sole administrator on your father's estate. I manage all finances and give out money, as needed, for the care of his child."

       "Well," Ed continued, "Alanna and I had a fight shortly after your mother's death. I had a guilty conscience and was very upset over the entire affair. Alanna decided she did not want to be near me anymore and moved to Italy."

       "She would never tell me where she lived. She would just show up from time to time and demand money. Despite how I feel about her, I love my grandson, your half-brother."

       "I, against my better judgment, gave her viewing priveledges on the estate bank accounts. I was hoping to rebuild out relationship. I hoped that she would see how hard I worked to provide for her son."

       "I had taken your father's $2 million policy and invested it. In almost five years, it was close to $150 million. There are no checks and balances on it. I can pull any amount out and call it a management fee."

       "When I decided to confront Alanna, I needed to find her. I hired a detective to track her down and report back to me. The guy was great. It took only two weeks. I went to Italy and was about to go up to her house when I saw her come out. She had a man with her. They got in their car and left."

       "I could not believe my eyes. I waited for them to come back and, seven hours later, they did. I was much closer at that time and before they went into the house, I called out to them."

       Closing his eyes, the memories of that afternoon came crashing back.

-----

One year ago...

       Ed stood outside the villa in Ancona. He could not believe his eyes. Alanna was walking to the door with a man Ed knew very well. He suddenly realized he had to say something.

       

       "Hello, John," Ed said as he approached the couple.

       "DAD," Alanna exclaimed, "what are you doing here?"

       "Apparently," Ed said, "I am looking at a man that has been dead for the last seven years. Care to explain how this is possible?"

       

       Alanna and John looked at each other for a moment. They knew that this had to be handled delicately. With Ed as the only administrator for John's estates, he was indispensable.

       "Come on in, Ed," John said. "I think we could all do with a drink."

       "I agree," Ed said. "I know I could use one."

       They entered the villa and immediately were ambushed by a 6-year-old boy who was being chased by his nanny.

       "Lucia," Alanna said to the nanny, "could you take Johnny to his room and keep him occupied? John and I have business with this man and we would like it quiet."

       "Yes, ma'am," the maid responded as she took hold of the boy and retreated into the back of the villa.

       "What can I get you to drink, dad?"

       "Don't worry about that, Alanna," Ed said. "I think I just changed my mind about that drink. Tell me, John. How is this possible?"

       "Well, Ed," John said as he took a sip of his bourbon, "you know how they say everyone has a doppelganger out there? I found mine eight years ago. As luck would have it, he had similar health issues."

       "Let me see if I understand this," Ed interrupted. "The body of the man in your casket in Midlawn Cemetery is that of the doppelganger?"

       "Yes."

       "What about that business with Amanda and your daughters?"

       "Ed," John said plaintively, "you know I have always wanted a son. More than anything else in this world, I wanted a son. I loved Amanda, but she would not give me a son."

       "Not for lack of trying, John. She gave you five daughters."

       "Daughters, Ed. Daughters. I wanted a son. After Amy was born, she went ahead and had her tubes tied to prevent any more pregnancies. I couldn't have that, Ed. I wanted a son. Alanna gave me one."

       "And so, with Alanna pregnant with your son, you just threw away your wife and daughters?"

       "Well, divorce was out of the question. I had no real grounds for divorce and she would have taken half of everything. Then I remembered the life insurance policy. I arranged my 'death' and used the body of the doppelganger as my replacement."

       "But because the policy would go to Amanda, you had more work to do, right?"

       "Right, dad," Alanna said. "I convinced him that I knew how to get Amanda out of the picture."

       "It was brilliant," John said. "I really didn't love Amanda or her slut daughters at that point. The bitch denied me a son. That was the last straw. So when Alanna proposed her plan, I agreed."

       "You killed your daughters."

       "No," John objected. "Technically, Amanda did. And as for the three younger ones, they are probably still alive. They would still be kind of young."

       "I think I am going to be sick," Ed said as he got to his feet. "I should go to the police with this."

       "That would not be wise, dad. If you did that, you, me, and John would all go to jail. Who would care for Johnny?"

       Ed was unable to think of a clean way out. Shaking with frustration, he began to cry.

       "Easy, Ed," John said comfortingly. "I know this is a shock. Just take it slow."

       "Yeah, dad," Alanna agreed. "Go back to New York and take care of things there. I will call you in a few days."

       "But your daughters, John. What about them? Don't you care where they are?"

       "I know you feel bad, Ed," John replied calmly. "Just remember. I wanted a son. I already told you that I didn't love the little bitches. Why the hell would I care how they ended up?"

       "Go back to New York, Ed. Keep managing my estate like you have been and no one needs to know that I am still alive."

-----

       

       "Uncle Ed," Amy prodded. "You called out to them?"

       "Oh," Ed said, snapping back to the present, "right. I called out to them and they turned to see me. You may have already guessed, but it was your father with Alanna."

       Melinda and Elizabeth nodded, showing they had guessed. Amy was still having a little difficulty getting over her shock.

       "Daddy? But he died."

       "Apparently not, Amy," Melinda said.

       "Hmmm," Amy said, thoughtfully, "so he arranged for mom to kill Chelly and Lany. Then he let Alanna kill mom and send us to......"

       "Yes," Elizabeth said, seeing that Amy could not continue. "So, Ed. You found out our father was still alive and they had duped you. Then what?"

       "Well, they convinced me to not go to the police. I went back to New York and managed the estates. A month later, I was able to track down the men who transported you three to Thailand eight years ago. It was not easy to locate them. Unfortunately, they did not know which place bought you after he delivered you to the broker."

       "I spent another month searching the seedier bars in Bangkok and finally found you. Once I found you, I contacted some friends and arranged the escape. You know the rest. Here we are."

       "So," Melinda asked, "what next?"

       "Well," Ed replied, "I am concerned about you three. You have all been through some serious trauma, both mental and physical. I know from the bartender back there, that you had been used by that horse. I would like you to see a surgeon and see if we can get some of that physical damage corrected."

       "Huh?"

       "Well, the bartender mentioned that you were going to be replaced because you were not tight enough to satisfy the customers. That says, to me, that your bodies are damaged. I have the money to give you as much care as you would like. I know this is probably embarrassing, but you deserve better."

       

       Amy shook her head.

       

       "It is not embarrassing, Uncle Ed," Amy said. "I don't know what it would take to embarrass me, but it is more than that. O do not know about Liz and Mel, but I will accept your offer. I know that I could use some 'tightening' down there."

       Melinda and Elizabeth were not as at ease about it, but they were nodding. Neither of them had any illusions. They were, for lack of better words, 'damaged goods'. Surgery would help with that. Knowing that the money came from an estate that, technically, belonged to their father, made it even better.

       "After that is done and you have recovered," Ed continued, "I have a request to ask of you."

       "What is it," Amy asked. "After getting us back home and taking care of us, I think I am willing to do practically anything for you."

       

       Ed spent a minute looking out the airplane window. Heaving a deep sigh, he looked back at the girls.

       "I would like you three to kill Alanna."

-----

       "Okay," Amy said with a smile.

       "What," Elizabeth asked, aghast. "Amy, wait a minute. Do you know what you are agreeing to? He just asked us to kill someone."

       "Yes," Amy agreed, the smile still on her face, "he did. He asked us to kill the person who got mommy to kill Chelly and Lany; the person who, in fact, killed mommy and arranged to have us spend the last few years getting raped and fucking a horse in some filty bar."

       Amy's smile was now gone. In its place was a look that scared her sisters. Amy's calm acceptance of even the worst indignities forced on them had convinced the older two that Amy was almost retarded. Now, they saw that it was a defense mechanism. She had sort of slept through the horrors of the last few years, accepting it because there was no other choice.

       Now, their youngest sister was awake. In her posture and expression, they saw none of the slow-witted acceptance to which they were accustomed. Elizabeth wondered if this was a good thing.

       "Amy," Elizabeth said, "I think....."

       "No, Liz," Amy cut off. "We are done with that. The woman who stole our family is out there. Ed, our dear Uncle Ed, has rescued us and given us the means to reclaim our lives. In return he is asking us to avenge our dead mother and sisters. I, for one, think we should do it."

       "I did not," Amy continued, "hear anything that leads me to believe that he is forcing us to do this, so, if you and Mel do not want to do it, have your surgery and move on with your lives. Me? I am going to do this. The one problem I have is that I have no real skills with which to pull it off."

       "I think I can help with that," Ed said. "I have lots of friends. One was a navy seal and another was with the rangers. If you are willing to put in the time, they can train you to do this."

       Amy was all smiles. There was now a cheerfulness radiating from her that gave her sisters mixed feelings.

       "I'm in," Amy said. "About how long do you think it will take to train me?"

       "Train us, you mean," Melinda added with a sigh. "I cannot let you do this on your own, Amy. I'm in, too."

       "Fuck," Elizabeth said with a sigh of her own. "Looks like the three stooges are reuniting. Count me in, too, Uncle Ed."

       "Excellent. Now remember, girls. Until you actually go to kill her, you can back out and I will not be disappointed in you at all. I have had a guilty conscience for these last eight years. I do not want you to go through that."

       "Not just her," Amy said.

       "Huh," Ed asked.

       "We are not just going to kill Alanna," Amy clarified. "When we go to do it, I will kill daddy as well. He must pay as well. He is not blameless. He will die with her. Only their son will be spared. He, alone, is innocent."

       Elizabeth and Melinda were now scared. This was a side of Amy no one had ever seen. In the past, they had always been able to control her. Melinda was pretty sure, now, that Amy had let herself be controlled. They agreed with her thinking, but neither of them had ever seen her this determined.

       "Yeah," Melinda said. "Dad has to die as well. He is just as guilty as your daughter."

       "Okay," Ed said hesitantly. "Who will care for John Jr?"

       "Well," Amy said, "if I have a clear understanding of the situation, he is almost 8 years old. You never did tell us how long it would take to train us, but I can wait. If we wait until he is in high school, say 15 years old, he will be more self-sufficient. As such, his caring half-sisters would likely be able to take care of him."

       Elizabeth was beginning to worry about her sister's plan. Seven years? Amy wanted to wait 7 years to get her revenge?

       "Wait a minute, Amy," Elizabeth said. "You are talking about waiting 7 years. Just what kind of training are you planning on getting?"

       "Mercenary training, Liz. I also want you two to learn martial arts. Think about it. If we went now, what fun could we have? You know nothing about torturing someone. You could accidentally kill them before we were satisfied."

       "When we go to kill them," Amy continued, "I want to make them feel the pain mom, Chelly, and Lany felt. I want them to experience what we did. If I can manage it, I want daddy to be raped by a horse, just like you, me, and Mel."

       "Wow," Melinda said, in awe of her little sister. "Amy. What happened to you?"

       "What do you mean, Mel?"

       "All the time we were in that bar, you just did as you were told. You never did anything without instructions. What happened?"

       "We're free, Mel. That is what happened. While we were there, I did what I had to to get by. You and Liz fought and got beaten. Do you remember that mother and her daughter that came to the bar seven years ago?"

       "You mean the flight attendant and her daughter?"

       "Yes. The daughter was told to fuck one of the patrons and she refused. Remember? The mother tried to intervene when they started beating the girl. What happened to the mother?"

       "I remember," Liz said. "They strung her up by her ankles and used a 2-man saw to cut her in half."

       "Right," Amy said with a sad smile. "I learned that night that it was not worth fighting. You and Mel got beaten by the other girls if you showed initiative. You got beaten by the men if you did not service them. My way kept me from receiving any beatings. I tried to tell you before."

       "I remember," Mel said, realizing that Amy was right.

       "I still had to do all the sex things you two did, but I was not in too much physical pain over it."

       "I see," Melinda replied. "And now that we are free, you don't need to be all meek and mild. Is that it?"

       "Partly," Amy replied. "Another part, the biggest part, is the fact that I want revenge on the people that put us there. Until that is done, I cannot move on with my life. The problem is that, right now, I am in no condition to exact my revenge."

       Ed, listening to the girls' conversation, had to agree with Amy's logic. They were not ready to do anything about John and Alanna. He was not sure that Elizabeth and Melinda could wait the amount of time Amy wanted, but that was another question.

       "Ok, girls," he said. "We are almost to Tokyo. We will have a three-hour layover there. I am going to make some calls. One will be to a surgeon I know in Beverly Hills that can give you three the surgery you want. The others will be to those friends of mine that I mentioned. When we get you healed up, we will decide what to do."

       With that, the conversation ended. The girls sat in silence for the rest of the trip, each contemplating their own future.

-----

Four days later......

       Elizabeth and Melinda were alone in the hotel room. They had been in the hotel room for two days and Amy had been about to go stir crazy. Ed agreed to go with her so they went to get some food rather than call down for room service.....again. This was the first time the older sisters had been able to talk privately since Ed rescued them.

       "Melinda," Elizabeth said to her sister, "what do you think about Amy, now?"

       

       Melinda had to think about that. Their younger sister had certainly changed since their escape. There was a hard edge to her that neither sister had ever seen. Melinda thought she was hiding something.

       "I don't know," Melinda replied. "I get the feeling that she is hiding something. Seeing how she has changed, I wonder how long she has been hiding it."

       "I know. I keep thinking back to that conversation on the plane. Didn't you notice something odd when we were talking? When she was talking about killing Alanna and Dad?"

       "Um, not really. I was pretty much in shock. I mean, I had never seen her act that way."

       "Yeah," Elizabeth said patiently, "but I am talking about when she was talking about the training. She said she wanted us - you and me - to get martial arts training. She said we knew nothing about torturing people. Again, she was referring to you and me. What do you think about that?"

       "Huh? Are you sure? She could have been talking about all three of us."

       "No. Her exact words were 'I also want you two to learn martial arts....you know nothing about torturing someone....you could accidentally kill them before we were satisfied.' Does that sound like she was including herself?"

       "Hmmm. Now that you mention it, I think I do remember that. And you are right. It does not sound like she was including herself."

       "Which leads me to believe," Elizabeth continued, "that you are right. She is hiding something. The question that concerns me now is this: do we really want to open Pandora's Box and find out what it is she is hiding?"

       "Maybe we should talk to Ed. See if he knows anything. She has stuck to his side like glue since we got on that plane in Bangkok. The only time she is away from him is when either of them are going to the bathroom or taking a shower."

       "No. I think we should ask her straight out when they get back. It may be nothing. We might be imagining the whole thing. You know how paranoid we got back there."

       "You're right," Melinda replied. "It might be nothing. Okay. We will ask her when they get back."

       "When we get back," Amy asked as she and Ed entered the room. "You were talking about a 'her' so that leads me to believe you meant me. What do you want to ask me?"

       Melinda blushed as she realized that she and Elizabeth no longer had a choice. Over the last 4 days, they had seen a side of Amy they had never encountered. She was sharp; frightfully sharp. She would know if they tried to lie to her. Melinda did not understand it, but Amy seemed to have a built-in lie detector.

       

       "Well, Amy," Melinda said, realizing that now was as good as any time to broach the subject, "we were wondering about something you said on the plane. You said that we needed to learn martial arts and we knew nothing about torturing someone. You weren't including yourself, were you?"

       "No," Amy said with a sigh. "I wasn't."

       "You know martial arts," Elizabeth asked incredulously. "Where did you learn that?"

       "Not just martial arts," Amy replied. "I have been trained to fight bare-handed, with knives, with swords, and with handguns. You may not remember, but for the first four years we were in Thailand, I never saw you. I was too young for them to put on stage so they trained me in other ways."

       "Why," Ed asked, intrigued.

       "To protect the girls. There was fierce rivalry among the seedier bars there. One bar would often steal girls from another bar. With two few guards to fight off the more serious attempts, they wanted me - and a few other girls trained like me - to wait for an opening and then strike. Once we killed those who took us, we were to return the other girls to the bar."

       "They believed you would do that?"

       "They did," Amy said. "And to be honest, I would have. The girls at our bar were, if not treated well, treated better than any of the other bars in the area. Had the girls been found on the street with no one to look after them, they would have been fair game to anyone strong enough to hold them still. Deaths and physical damage were less frequent at our bar."

       "Don't get the wrong idea, though. The owners didn't do it for love of the girls. The girls were just merchandise. The point was to take care of the merchandise. It is expensive to replace the girls. New girls have to be broken and retrained. That takes time and a girl being broken and retrained brings no money into the bar while costing the bar in meals and room."

       "No," Amy continued. "They wanted us alive and well so we could draw money. That girl that died the night you rescued us? She shouldn't have. There was no one to replace her. The bartender will get punished for that.....not to mention the men who killed her."

       "They would punish the bartender and the patrons? How?"

       "The bartender would be killed and the patrons that killed the girl would be castrated. If someone really offended the owner, an example was made."

       "What kind of example?"

       "One guy received a sex-change operation against his will. He was then sent to another of the owner's bars and broken. Last I heard, he was servicing customers like the rest of the girls."

       "Wait a minute," Elizabeth said. "I never heard anything about that. How do you know all this?"

       "Like I said," Amy replied. "I was trained to protect the girls. I was one of the few to carry out tortures and executions on those that abused the other girls. I was there when the guy got his sex-change operation."

       "It's SRS," Melinda said.

       "What?"

       "It is not called a sex-change operation, anymore," Melinda answered with a smile. "The political correctness brigade now call it SRS, which stands for sex reassignment surgery."

       "Who gives a fuck," Elizabeth demanded, exasperated. "You were killing people over there, Amy?"

       "Yes."

       "How could you?"

       "They told me that if I didn't, they would kill you two. The choice was easy. And these men were scum. In the plane, I mentioned the mother who was cut in half because she tried to stop the customers from beating her daughter. The men who did that were the first men I killed."

       "It was a year after the incident. Apparently the men realized that they crossed the line and fled before the owner caught them. Well, eventually, they were caught. I had been training on the use of throwing knives and my trainer had me use these men as targets. By that time, I was good. When I was finished, there were 12 to 15 knives in each of the four men."

       Elizabeth was shocked. It was like hearing someone talk about someone else. There was no remorse. That, Elizabeth thought, was the worst part. There was no remorse at all for the killings Amy had performed.

       "How many," Elizabeth asked.

       "Ehh?"

       "How many men have you killed?"

       "Ahhh. I have killed 247 men."

       "And women," Ed asked. "I know that women there can be brutal as well."

       "True," Amy said, "but we didn't kill the women. They were sent to a different bar and one of that bar's girls was brought to our bar. They couldn't put someone who had killed one of our girls in with the rest of the girls. The offender wouldn't last one night."

       "So, why do you want your sisters to get training?"

       "I know that, alone, I could get in there and do the job, but I want to share this with them. To do that, they need to be able to protect themselves in case things don't go as planned. I can wait while they get the training. I will go through it as well to add to the training I have already had."

       The older sisters could say no more. They knew they would need time to process all that their sister had said.

       "Anyway," Amy added, "that is for later. First on my agenda is to get my body fixed up. I know I am probably being narcissistic, but I want my pussy repaired, if possible. Then after recovering from that, I will look at whatever training your friends can offer."

       Ed looked at the older girls and smiled at the nods they gave him. He understood. Elizabeth was the oldest, but she was still only 20 years old. Their bodies had been seriously abused and if there was any way to correct any of that, he wanted to help them get it corrected.

-----

Four years later.....

       Phillip Amsted looked around at all the casings and began to pick them up. The girls had used a lot of ammunition, but they were making some real progress. They still had a long way before they caught up with their younger sister, but, then again, so did everyone else Phillip knew.

       Amy was something beyond his understanding. She was only 21 but handled knives, guns, and practically any weapon better than anyone he knew. She had even taught him a few things, though he hated to admit it.

       She could, for example, hit a man-sized target at almost 200 meters without a scope. With a scope, her maximum range was close to 2000 meters. She had impeccable timing as well. She had shown him a trick he was dying to show Ed. Ed was one of the best sharpshooters Phillip had ever known, even if the old guy rarely went shooting these days.

       "Alright, girls," he said to Melinda and Elizabeth, "help me pick up this brass and then we will get back to the barracks."

       The girls cheerfully agreed. They had done well today and they knew it. It was, however, a hot and sticky day and a shower back at the barracks was just what they wanted.

       The barracks were just that: barracks. A decommissioned military base in South America had been purchased by Ed and his friends for just this kind of training. They (the friends and the girls) could do whatever they wanted without fear of 'authorities'. They had had some difficulty when they first arrived but after Amy was set loose on the squatters, there had been no more trouble.

       Amy was not with the older girls. They were not happy, but they knew that Amy had more than extra previous training going for her. She had talent.

       It did not matter what these men showed Amy. Within minutes, she was able to do it. After a couple of weeks, she was able to perform at the same level of expertise shown by their trainers. After a couple of months, the trainers were struggling to keep up with her.

       Frankly, if Amy hadn't been so sweet about the whole thing, the older girls would have been jealous. They still were, a bit, but Amy never rubbed it in their faces. She never bragged or even talked about her training. If the trainers didn't talk where Melinda and Elizabeth could hear them, the older girls would never know anything about their sister's training.

       Amy never shirked her duties. From the minute they got there, she was helping out in any way she could. She never waited for anyone to ask her for something. She was always offering assistance.

       As far as the older girls could tell, Amy's behavior had two major side effects. First, Amy was the first person to be trusted with complicated, dangerous tasks. The men respected her. Second, her extra activities had a major benefit of making her supremely physically fit.

       Amy, though she still had her petite form, was stronger than most of the men in the area. She could now run 30 miles without stopping. Melinda and Elizabeth pooped out after 10.

       The older girls knew that they were never going to be as good as Amy was with these kinds of activities. Their satisfaction, however, came from the fact that, despite their inability to keep up with Amy, they were surpassing their trainers in many areas.

       The one area, they still had difficulty with was marksmanship. Guns were still a problem. They were good, but they wanted to be better. That was why they pushed Phillip to bring them out to the range every day.

       "Damn, girls," Phillip said, startling Melinda from her thoughts as they finished picking up the casings and started back to the barracks, "I don't know how much more I can teach you. You have come a long way in only 3 months."

       "Yeah," Elizabeth said, "but we still aren't as good as Amy."

       Phillip lost his smile and came to a halt.

       "Listen," he said as he turned to the girl. "I don't want to disappoint you, but it will be very difficult, if not impossible to become as good as her with a gun. I have never, and I mean NEVER, seen anyone as good as she is."

       "It is good to want to be like her," he continued as they resumed their jog back to the barracks, "but do not beat yourself up because you aren't. You two are still better than 90% of the people on this base. When I said there wasn't much more I could teach you, it was because you are as good as I am."

       "But it is not just guns with Amy. It is everything. She is like a one-woman army."

       "I know what you mean," Phillip said with a chuckle. "To be honest, some of the trainers are afraid of her. They think that if they piss her off, she could kill them."

       "I don't think she could do somethi....."

       "She could," Phillip said, cutting Elizabeth off mid-sentence. "She never shows it, but there is a darkness in her. There is a purpose driving her and I pity anyone who gets in her way."

       

       Melinda and Elizabeth just looked at each other. They knew the motivation behind Amy's actions. They couldn't, however, tell anyone. Ed had been very specific on that point. There was no point in putting anyone else at risk.

       As they crested the hill and looked down into the area surrounding the barracks, Phillip realized he might get his wish. Ed was here. Amy should be able to show him her trick.

       "C'mon, girls," he said with a smile. "It looks like your 'Uncle' is here. Let's double-time it."

       Picking up the pace, they ran the last mile to the camp.

-----

       "So," Ed said to Mike Mitchell, the lead trainer and facilitator of this camp, "you think the girls are ready?"

       "Ready," Mike asked. "I do not know about that. You four have been as tight-lipped as anyone I have ever met when it comes to why they needed the training. what I do know is that there is nothing more we can teach them."

       "The older ones, Elizabeth and Melinda, could stand toe-to-toe with any special forces soldier in America. They have superior ability with guns and knives. They are proficient in three....no four schools of martial arts and as far as strategic planning is concerned, they are better tacticians than anyone else I know. Well, with one exception."

       "And what about Amy," Ed asked.

       "She is the exception. For the last year, she has been training us, not the other way around."

       "You're kidding."

       "Afraid not, Ed," Mike said. "That girl is kind of scary."

       "You are not the first to feel that, Mike."

       "Are you sure you cannot tell me what is going on? I am genuinely worried about Amy. She has something driving her and whatever it is, if there is someone in her way, they will suffer dearly."

       "I am sorry, Mike. That is their secret. I cannot say more."

       "No problem, Ed," Mike replied with a smile. "I am just their trainer. You pay well and don't place any restrictions on how we do our job."

       "I thought you were here," Phillip huffed and puffed as he entered the room.

       "Hi, Phil," Ed replied with a smile. "You look all out. What's wrong?"

       "I just ran a mile with a 50-pound pack on my back. That's what's wrong. And let me tell you something. If either of you tell those girls I was this bad off, I will kill you."

       "Trying to show off for the girls, Phil," Mike asked with a grin on his face. "That's just sad. Remember. You are twenty years older than they are."

       "Fuck. I know that, but they weren't even sweating hard."

       "See what I mean, Ed," Mike asked, turning back to his employer. "They may not be ready, but they have had everything we can give them."

       "Oh, by the way," Phillip interrupted, "is Amy back yet, Mike? I have something I want her to show you."

       "Yeah. She, Brent, Tony, and Rick all got back three hours ago. I think she was going to take a shower and a nap."

       "Great. I will be right back."

       Phillip ran to the barracks and gasped - just as he always did - when he saw Amy in the barracks. The girl never wore clothes indoors. Outside, she was never without gear that would help her hide in her surroundings. He shouldn't have been surprised. The girl had no modesty.

       She was beautiful. She had beautiful 32-C breasts and hair down to her ass. She may be only 5'2", but she had a figure most women would kill for. Her physical activities, though rigorous, had not distorted her form, making her look like a female bodybuilder.

       "Amy," Phillip whispered into the sleeping girl's ear. "It is time to ge....."

       

       Further discussion was lost as Phillip staggered back from a vicious blow that dislocated his nose.

       "Oh, Phillip," exclaimed Amy as she jumped up from bed and rushed to help him. "I am sorry. Oh, it looks like I broke your nose. Just a sec...."

       Without giving him a chance to object, she placed her hands on either side of his nose and with a quick jerk, set it right. Phillip blanked out for a second as the pain overwhelmed him. While he was taking a second to recover, Amy got dressed. She knew he would never disturb her rest if she wasn't needed for something.

       "What can I do for you," she asked, seeing that he was coming around again.

       "Ugh. Yeah. Your 'Uncle' Ed is here. I was wondering if you could show him and Mike that trick you showed me the other day."

       "Trick?"

       "Yeah. The coin trick."

       "Well, it is not really a trick, Phillip, but I could show them if you like."

       "Excellent. Then get.....oh. You are dressed. Then come with me."

       "Um. Ok."

       The two headed back and, after a minute, arrived at HQ.

       "I see you woke her up," Mike said. "Dislocated your nose, did she? And here I thought you had learned after the last time."

       "Shut up. Just come outside with us. You gotta see this."

       The three men and Amy went outside. Phillip gave Amy his gun and turned to Mike.

       "Mike, you got a quarter?"

       "Yeah. Why?"

       "Let me see it," Phillip demanded, holding out his hand.

       "Ok," Mike said agreeably as he handed the quarter over.

       "Call it, Ed. Heads or tails."

       "Um....heads."

       Without pausing, Phillip flipped the coin high into the air, watching as it flipped.

       BANG!!

       "WHAT THE FUCK," exclaimed Mike as he jumped from the noise.

       "Just this," Phillip replied as he picked up the coin. "Take a look."

       "There is a hole in it," Ed replied, stating the obvious.

       "No kidding. But look. You can tell by the indent around the hole that the bullet struck the 'heads' side."

       "Dumb luck," Mike said. "Yes, it is impressive that she can shoot a hole through a spinning coin, but hitting the called side? That has to be luck."

       "Try it again, then," Phillip goaded.

       "Okay," Mike replied as he pulled another quarter from his pocket. "Tails this time."

       He flipped the coin high into the air and, realizing what was to come, quickly covered his ears.

       BANG!!

       "Damn," Mike said as he picked up the coin. "Tails this time. Could still be luck, but why don't you think so?"

       "Yesterday, Amy and I went through a roll of quarters repeating this trick. 40 quarters. She hit the right side every time."

       "What does that mean," Ed asked.

       "Ed," Mike said, "it means that her timing is perfect. Her eyes are right on as well. If she can see the flipping coin and time it so the bullet hits the right side as it is turning over and over, well, I have never seen anything like it."

       "Phil," Mike said, "I think we are done here, for now. I have had reports from all the other guys and Melinda and Elizabeth are as good as we can make them. You agree with that?"

       "I do."

       "Good. Then go tell the girls to pack up their gear. They will be leaving with Ed the day after tomorrow."

       "Sure thing, Mike," Phillip answered as he left.

       "That goes for you, two, little lady," Mike said as he turned to Amy.

       He paused for a moment as he looked at her. She was looking to the east, not saying anything. She was motionless, but both Mike and Ed could feel the tension pouring from inside her.

       "Hey, Amy," Ed said gently, getting her attention, "go pack your things. We will be leaving soon."

       "You bet, Uncle Ed," she said as she jumped up and gave him a big hug.

       She suddenly looked down and, noticing the gun still in her hand, gave the gun to Mike.

       "Can you give that back to Phillip? Thanks. Oh. And please tell him I am sorry about his nose."

       She then turned and ran for the barracks. After watching her disappear, the two men went back inside to have a beer.

-----

Los Angeles, CA - two weeks later.....

       Ed paced the room. Since getting back from the training camp, the apartment had been a scene of constant tension. Ed had suspected it before, but now he knew that Amy was calling the shots. There were moments when she was a sweet girl, just like when she hugged him at the camp, but they were few and far between. They also rarely lasted more than a few minutes.

       The two older girls seemed content to let their little sister lead. It was no wonder, really. She was the smartest and strongest of the three. They all wanted revenge on their father and Alanna for the murder of their mother and older sisters, but only Amy seemed to have any ideas on how to accomplish it.

       This was not the reason Ed was pacing. The reason for his pacing was that Amy had disappeared. Since arriving in Los Angeles almost two weeks before, the three girls had been content to allow Ed to take them anywhere they needed to go. They had all been together since arriving in the city.

       This, however, must have been irritating Amy. When Ed, Elizabeth, and Melinda awoke this morning, they found a note from Amy on the table. She had been having difficulty thinking with everyone all around her, so she went for a walk to clear her head. There had been no mention of when she would be back.

       It was now 14 hours later, 9:00pm. Ed was worried sick that something had happened. The girls still had no cell phones so there was no way to get in touch with her until she came back. Ed was torn between worrying about her well-being and the well-being of anyone who pissed her off. She had shown that she had a temper. The scary thing was that she was never out of control. Even when supremely pissed off, she was always in full control of her actions.

       "Ed," Melinda said, "you're pacing again. Come and sit down. Worrying about her is not going to get her to come back any sooner. She'll come back when she has found the solution to her problem."

       "Problem? What problem?"

       "I don't know."

       "Neither of us do," Elizabeth added. "Amy just does this. When something is bothering her, rather than talk about it, she goes......what do the Australians call it, Mel?"

       "Walkabout"

       "Yeah. She goes walkabout."

       "And how long is she usually gone?"

       "It varies," Melinda said. "Sometimes it is hours, sometimes it is days. In the camp, she had Mike all worried once because she was gone for three weeks."

       "Three weeks? Jesus! What did she eat?"

       "Whatever she could. Berries, nuts, bugs, whatever animal she could kill and cook. Hell, she shocked the camp when she came back because she was carrying this jaguar. It was a full-grown male that weighed around 220 pounds."

       "I remember that," Elizabeth said with a chuckle. "It scared the hell out of Mike when he was taking the ropes off it and it snapped at him."

       "Yeah, and Amy just grabs Jim's gun and puts three bullets in the animal's head."

       "Why didn't she kill it before," Ed asked.

       "I didn't know how long it would take me to get back to camp," Amy said as she entered the room. "I didn't want the meat getting gamy. I had carried that damn oversized cat for six days. It was a great workout. The only annoying part was that I would have to set it down and brain it every six hours or so to keep it unconscious."

       "Amy," Ed asked as he sunk into a chair, relief washing over him, "where have you been?"

       "I needed to clear my head so I took a walk."

       "THAT WAS ALMOST 15 HOURS AGO," Ed shouted, his anger rising.

       "I am sorry, Uncle Ed," Amy said contritely. "I just had this thought that had been bugging me for a few days and whenever I thought I had it, it would get lost.  I just needed time to figure this out."

       "And did you?"

       "Yep. It was a question I have been meaning to ask you."

       "Really? What is it?"

       "Do you still have the tapes your daughter made twelve years ago?"

       "Yes," Ed said with a frown. "I am sorry, but I have not destroyed them, yet."

       "Actually, that is a good thing. I need to see the one with your daughter killing mom."

       "What," asked Melinda. "Why?"

       "I understand if you two do not want to see it again," Amy said to Melinda and Elizabeth, "but I need to ask Ed about something in it. It will only take a few minutes, so if you want to wait in the other room, go ahead."

       "No," Elizabeth said. "I don't know what it is you are curious about, but I can deal with it."

       "Me too," Melinda said.

       Ed, looking at the girls, sighed. He hated letting them see their mother's pain. The poor woman had been stripped of all dignity and had been brutally tortured before death claimed her. As far as Ed could see, there was nothing worth watching that. One look at Amy's face, however, was enough to tell him that she would not let this go.

       Sighing again, he got up and went to his room and got the tape from the safe. Returning to the living room, he put the tape in the player and turned on the TV. At least, he thought, there is no sound on this one. The movie had only played for a few minutes, however, when Amy asked him to pause it.

       "I thought I remembered this," Amy said triumphantly. "Uncle Ed, how many women are on the screen?"

       "Three," Ed said thoughtfully as he looked at the screen. "Somehow, I had forgotten this."

       "Who is the woman helping your daughter?"

       

       Ed was shook. Amy had seen the video only once......four years ago in that bar in Bangkok. She had never forgotten the details. Looking at the figure of the second torturer, he knew who it was from the size of the woman.

       "Her name is Rita Caldwell. She was my daughter's best friend. They kind of drifted apart after this occurred. I do know that Alanna sends Rita $10,000 a month as a kind of thanks for the help Rita gave back then."

       "Where does this Rita live?"

       "I do not know."

       "Can you find her?"

       "I can. You want her killed?"

       "Um......no. Not yet, anyway. I just want to know where she is. She has information I want."

       "Oh? What is it?"

       "The identity of everyone who was there that day," Amy answered. "When they take mom to the kitchen, Rita and your daughter are in the picture, but the picture moves. This means the camera is held by someone. I want to know who held it. They are as guilty as Rita and Alanna."

       "How many people are you planning on killing?"

       "So far? Only three; Rita, Alanna, and daddy. If I can find the cameraperson, I may hire him or her to run the technical side of filming our fun."

       "And this fun.....what do you have planned?"

       "Before I tell you, Uncle Ed, I have another question. Do you want to be there?"

       ""I do not know, Amy," Ed said. "I really do not know."

       "Ok," Amy said. "I was planning on you watching little Johnny while we do the dirty work. I was pretty sure you would not want to be there. As for the rest, it is quite simple."

       "We will take Rita first. We will not kill her for a while. We will keep her so Alanna can watch her friend die. You mentioned that daddy and Alanna always go to an island in the Caribbean around the end of November each year, right?"

       "Yes. The last week of November."

       "And how big is this island?"

       "It is a decent size. About half of one square mile."

       "Ok. That is about two months from now. I want Rita found. We will take her in the second week of June and then go to the island. You will stay here. After we take Rita, I will call you and you will remove your daughter's 'viewing privileges' from the bank account. If she is checking it on a regular basis, it will not be long before she calls you to get an explanation."

       "You will go down there to talk to them about some investments you have planned. While you are there, you will try to get Alanna to allow you to spend an afternoon with your grandson. You two will go out on their boat. You did say they had a boat, right?"

       "Yes. They have a yacht and a little fishing boat. The fishing boat is moored at the island year-round in the boathouse."

       "You can drive it," Amy asked.

       "I can."

       "Can you sail the yacht?"

       "Yes. I did a lot of sailing when I was younger."

       "Even better. Then tell Alanna you want to go fishing with Johnny. She may be hesitant, but do whatever you can to convince her. Once you and Johnny are away, Mel, Liz, and I will strike. We will enter the house and use tranquilizer darts to put Alanna and daddy out. We will move them to a new location and I will call you, using Alanna's phone."

       "You will," Amy continued, "return to the island, saying that an emergency had come up and daddy and Alanna had to return to Italy. A helicopter from the mainland had picked them up and they took a plane home. They asked you to sail the yacht home as it would give you more time with Johnny."

       "Will I see John or Alanna again?"

       "That," Amy replied, "is up to you. If you want to watch her die, we can work something out with Johnny."

       "Uh, no," Ed said. "I do not know if I could handle watching her die in front of me."

       "If you would like, we can film it for you."

       "You weren't planning on filming it?"

       "No," Amy answered. "This is a one-time thing. For revenge. I will not need to watch it later."

       "Ok. I can find a film crew for you," Ed said.

       "Were you the one who found the film crew for Alanna?"

       "Yes."

       "Did you know that they are all dead?"

       "WHAT?!?"

       

       Amy smiled. It was good to know that she was right. Ed may have been involved in the beginning, but when he turned his back on the whole affair, he didn't look back.

       

       "Everyone associated with the event died over eleven years ago. There was a big investigation. Apparently, this guy named Chris Sorenson was arrested for drug trafficking. while he was in jail waiting for the trial, the police obtained a warrant and searched his home. They found a huge stash of cocaine, some child porn, and a couple of realistic-looking snuff films."

       "They found some notes about a job he had done 9 months earlier - editting a snuff project where a mother and her two daughters were killed on film - and an address book with the contact numbers of some of the people listed in the notes. Before they could ask Chris about it, though, he was found dead in his cell. The coroner's report listed poison as the cause of death."

       "Running a check on the names in Chris' address book, they found that several had been in the area at the time of the job and also had lengthy police records. They question all but two of the people. The two they could not question were dead. They had been killed within 36 hours of Chris Sorenson's death. As a side note, one of the people killed was a famous chef that had been accused of cannibalism (never proven) and as a result lost her job in a restaurant in France."

       "The people they questioned knew of a job involving a mother and two daughters, but had no details. After polygraphs and lengthy questioning, the police assumed that either the job never took place or the people involved with it were dead."

       "I am only guessing, but your daughter probably knew about Sorenson's drug habits. She might have had an informant on the police force and arranged Chris' death after the arrest. She knew that after a drug arrest, a search warrant was likely and killed the other two people that were there that day. She probably spared Rita due to their friendship."

       Ed was stunned. He knew nothing about any of this. He would not, however, put it beyond Alanna to be that ruthless.

       "It is possible," he acquiesced. "How did you find out about all this?"

       "I found a corrupt cop that had been involved with the investigation and fucked his brains out in return for information. He snuck the report out of storage for me and let me read it. That is part of why I am so late."

       "And the other part?"

       "Well, on the way back to the hotel, I was attacked by some guys. I guess they thought that because I am so small, I would be an easy rape victim. They were wrong."

       "What happened?"

       "They will live, but they may be in the hospital for a while. There were three guys. Two of them may need prosthetic legs. None of them will be able to father children. I made sure I burst their testicles before I called 911."

       "Anyway," Amy said with a smile, "how long will it take you to track down Rita? I really want to talk to her."

       "Are you going to kill her too?"

       "Yes. But depending on how helpful she is, I may be quick about it. My main targets are daddy and Alanna. They will be begging me to kill them before I am done. Rita, if she is helpful, will die quickly."

       "I will have her address by morning."

       "Excellent. After my fun tonight, I do not think it would be wise to stay very long. Those guys I mangled will be able to describe me and I do not want to have to deal with the police."

       "Agreed," Ed said as he turned to make the first of many phone calls.

-----

Reno, NV - Six Weeks Later

       Rita Caldwell was unhappy. The monthly check from Alanna was a week late. Having become dependent on the monthly income over the last 12 years, Rita was having to call her creditors and let them know that their money would be there, but it would be a few days late. She had been a good customer over the last several years so she doubted that there would be a problem. The only problem she had was the embarrassment.

       She pondered this as she walked from the post office on her way home. She lived in a nice apartment, but she did not trust her neighbors. Because of this, she never had mail delivered to her apartment. While it was a small inconvenience to walk the two miles to the post office 6 days a week, she could use the exercise. She often stopped by during her morning jog. For the last week, however, the foul weather had prevented her from taking her morning run. Instead, she would use the treadmill in the community gym and walk to the post office in the afternoon.

       It was a cold night and the snow was beginning to fall as she approached her front door. She went into her freezing apartment and immediately turned up the thermostat. It would soon be warm. She decided to take a warm shower. By the time she was done, the heat would be up.

       She walked through her dark apartment stripping off her clothes as she went. Walking through the bedroom, she went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Sighing contentedly, she stepped under the spray of the warm water. She quickly scrubbed herself clean and spent the next 5 minutes soaking under the heavy spray, letting the warm water relax her muscles. Turning off the water, she stepped out of the shower and cursed. She had forgotten to put the towels away last night and, as a result, there were no towels in the bathroom.

       Walking into the bedroom, she turned on the light and froze. There was someone sitting in a chair in the corner of the bedroom. Rita would have screamed but the gun the person held in her gloved hand, along with a clear indication that the she wanted Rita to be quiet, convinced Rita that screaming would be unwise. Instead, she stood there numbly as the woman rose from the chair, picked up a towel from the pile beside the chair, and tossed it to Rita.

       "Wrap yourself in that," the woman said, "and sit on the bed, Rita."

       "D-d-do I know you," Rita asked with a stutter as the woman sat back down.

       "Not yet," the woman said, motioning at the towel with the gun. "Let me introduce myself. I am Amy."

       Rita picked up the towel, wrapped it around herself and sat down.

       "How did you get in here?"

       "I have many talents, Rita. Some, you may find interesting. Others, you would never want to see. One of my favorite talents is the ability to know when someone is lying to me. You will not lie to me. Right, Rita?"

       "Huh?"

       "I picked your lock and let myself in four hours ago. I have been sitting here waiting for you. I was expecting you to notice me when you got home, but I guess your shower took precedence. You have a lovely body, by the way. Now, answer my question. Are you going to lie to me?"

       

       Rita was confused. This woman caught her completely off balance. She seemed pleasant; despite the gun.

       "No," Rita said. "I will not lie to you."

       "Excellent," Amy said delightedly. "Now, I want you to tell me my name."

       "Huh?"

       "You must like that word. Anyway, I feel that knowing the person you are talking to helps to calm you down. I must admit that you look quite perturbed. Well, to be honest, if I found an armed woman in my home, I would probably be perturbed, as well. But, I want you relaxed. I have some questions that need answers and I would like you to cooperate willingly. Now, to begin, tell me my name."

       "Amy," Rita said. "You said your name is Amy."

       "Very good. Most people, when surprised, find it very hard to concentrate. I like that you were able to remember my name. But you still seem tense. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"

       

       Rita knew what she would like. That gun was making her very nervous. It hinted at a world of bad things that could happen to her.

       "Could you put the gun down?"

       "I think I have a better solution," Amy said with a smile.

       Flipping the gun around so it was pointed at herself, Amy held the gun out to Rita.

       "Why don't you hold the gun? I know that were I in your position, I would be more relaxed if I held the weapon."

       Rita numbly took the gun. As the young woman sat down again, Rita kept looking from the woman in the chair to the gun in her own hand. Amazed at the stupidity of the young woman, Rita raised the gun and, pointing it at the young woman, pulled the trigger.

       CLICK

       "Oh," Amy said. "I forgot to mention. That gun is not loaded. If you wanted to attack me with it, you would be better off using it as a club or throwing the damn thing at me."

       "Then why give it to me?"

       "To give you the illusion of control. Like I said earlier, I am a woman of many talents. I do not need a gun to get you to cooperate."

       "And what if I told you that I have a gun?"

       "For someone who was fixated on the damn thing, you really didn't look at it, did you? That is your gun."

       Looking at the gun, Rita hissed in disgust as she realized the woman was not lying. It really was her gun. In an act of frustrated desperation, she threw the gun at the woman's head as hard as she could.

       "Predictable," Amy said as she caught the gun and set it on the table. "Rita, this is entertaining as hell, but we are not getting anywhere. Sit your ass down and let's talk."

       "Talk about what," Rita asked grudgingly as she sat on the bed.

       "Two people. John McInish and his wife, Alanna."

       "Alanna and John? Why do you want to talk about them?"

       "Because my name is Amy McInish."

       

       It took a second for the name to sink in, but when it did, Rita knew she was in trouble. This girl was supposed to be whoring herself in Bangkok. That, or she should have been dead.

       As her mind whirled and tried to process this information, Rita saw the young woman rise and walk toward her. Scrambling to back away, Rita slid off the bed. Falling backwards, she hit her head on the nightstand and knocked herself unconscious.

       "Fuck," Amy said. "Well, I was going to need to get her out of here anyway. Might as well be now."

       Amy dressed Rita in dark clothing and put her in the chair. Rita showed no signs of waking soon. Amy picked up the phone, carefully removed the bug, and dialed the number to a pay phone down the street.

       "Hello? Yeah. Change of plans. Have the van out front of the building in three minutes. Yeah. We will go now. Ok. See you in a few."

       Amy replaced the bug in the phone and hung up. Taking a minute to search Rita's purse, Amy found the unconscious woman's address book. Flipping through it, she found entries for Rita's mother, sister, and nieces. Smiling, Amy put the address book in her pocket and, picking Rita up out of the chair, left the apartment.

-----

       "Wakey wakey," a vaguely familiar voice said as cold water splashed Rita in the face, shocking her to full alertness.

       The first thing Rita noticed was the chair. She was bound to it and found movement nearly impossible. The bindings were tight, but not terribly uncomfortable. Looking closer, she saw that whoever had bound her had taken precautions geared at preventing the bindings from cutting off circulation.

       The second thing she noticed was that she was stark naked. The room was cool but not cold. Whoever had taken her was making an effort to keep her relatively comfortable, if immobile. In fact, the only uncomfortable part of this, so far, were the floodlights shining in her face. She could tell there were other people in the room, but the bright lights made it impossible to identify them.

       "I'm sorry," the familiar voice said as the floodlights went out. "Were those making it hard for you to see? Don't worry. With them out, your eyesight will return to normal in a minute and then we will make the introductions."

       

       Rita's eyes adjusted to the light and she finally recognized the speaker as Amy, the woman who had broke into her apartment.

       "How did I get here? Why am I naked? Why am I bound to this chair?"

       "Whoa, Rita," Amy said with a chuckle. "One at a time. I brought you here. Your attempt to flee from me resulted in you knocking yourself out when you fell and hit your head on the nightstand. We were not finished with our discussion about Alanna and my father so I decided to advance the timetable. I was going to bring you here anyway, but you did me the favor of being unconscious while I transported you. No fighting that way."

       "You are naked because you soiled yourself during transport and I am currently washing your clothes. Do you have a habit of pissing yourself in your sleep?"

       "No, but then again, I do not have a habit of being abducted.:

       "Fair enough," Amy said with another chuckle, one echoed by the other two occupants of the room. "Keep your head about you and this may go well for you. As well as possible, that is. To answer the last question, you were bound to that chair because the floor here is concrete and we did not want you lying on a cold hard floor."

       "Now that you are awake, I can remove the bindings. Before I do, however, I want you to promise that you will not attack me or do anything else equally stupid once you are released. Will you do that for me?"

       "Yes," Rita said with a nod.

       Amy just stood there, tapping her foot. After a moment, Rita understood.

       "Oh! I promise I will not attack you or do anything else."

       "Excellent," Amy said as she moved to free Rita.

       It took only moments, but during the process, Rita was sorely tempted to break her promise. Amy was in a position where Rita could have easily gotten the upper hand. As Amy finished and backed away, Rita cursed herself for not risking it.

       "I am glad you kept your promise. Regardless of how it seemed, I was never vulnerable. Had you attempted something, I would have had to hurt you......badly. Neither of us wants that."

       "But.....you kidnapped me."

       "I did," Amy admitted. "But I really would rather have your cooperation. The best way to do that, I think, is to let you know that I will not hurt you more than is absolutely necessary."

       "My cooperation?"

       "Yes. In your apartment, I told you my name. What is it?"

       "Amy."

       "And my last name?"

       "Oh, god. You said your last name is McInish."

       "Correct. Now I told you I wanted to talk about Alanna and John McInish, right? Can you guess why I would come to you about this?"

       

       Rita could guess. She was not really wanting to say it on the off chance that Amy did not know about Rita's part in her mother's death.

       "Um, no. I have no idea."

       Amy shook her head and walked toward the older woman. In a move that Rita could not follow, Amy backhanded the woman hard enough to knock her out of the chair and halfway across the room.

       "Geez, Amy," one of the other women said. "Don't break her jaw."

       "It's not broken. Bruised maybe, but not broken."

       "Fuck," Rita muttered. "What was that for?"

       "While we were in your apartment, you said you would not lie to me. You just lied. Lying is one of the only things that really pisses me off. You know why I came to you. Hey, Mel, turn on that TV."

       The woman named Mel turned on a TV that Rita had not noticed. To Rita's horror, she recognized the scene from the snuff film she had helped make 12 years earlier. She took her time getting back to the chair, trying to think of a way out of this.

       "That," Amy said, "is you - Rita Caldwell - and Alanna - then called Alanna McAllister - killing my mother. I have researched this video and I have the others made the same day, where you two made my mother kill my two older sisters."

       "Alanna did it. I only helped a little. I swear."

       "I know. That is why I am offering you this chance. I want your help in getting close to Alanna. I can do it on my own, but with you, it would be a little easier."

       "You're not going to kill me?"

       "Oh, yes," Amy said with a smile. "I am going to kill you. The choice before you is not one where your actions will determine if you live or die. In this situation, your actions will determine how you die."

       "What are my options?"

       "If you help me, I end it quick for you with a bullet in your brain. If you do not help me, I do to you what you did to my mother. I even have some new tricks to add to your performance. In other words, I can make it quick and relatively painless, or I can make you beg for death."

       "I will help you," Rita quickly said, remembering the pain Amanda went through 12 years before.

       "Smart woman," Amy said. "Now, remember what I said about lying. If you hesitate or change your mind later, that will do what?"

       "Really piss you off?"

       "Right. That lie you told earlier was a small lie compared to lying in this. Punishment for lying this time would be extreme."

       "Lisa McDonald," Amy said, reading from a small book she took from her pocket. "Danielle McDonald. Tabitha McDonald. Erika Winchell. Emily Horton."

       "What," Rita asked, shocked that Amy had the names of her mother, her two sisters, and her two nieces. How do you know those names?"

       "While you were passed out in the apartment, I stole your address book. After a little investigation, I discovered your family members. Should you try to back out of helping me, you will die the way my mother died, but not before you watch me destroy your family the same way. And they will know that you are the reason for their suffering."

       "You wouldn't!"

       "Amy," the woman named Mel said. "What is this?"

       Neither Melinda, nor Elizabeth, knew how far Amy was willing to go with this. They hoped she wasn't serious, but the changes in Amy left them wondering. This could get real bad, real quick.

       "I would," Amy said with a face that scared everyone in the room. "And I will if you give me reason to. If you cooperate, however, your body will be found with only a bullet hole in your head. No other signs of torture will be present, because that is the trade-off. You help me, and I will make it easier than you deserve."

       "What do I need to do?"

       "When I brought you here," Amy said, "we eluded the watchers Alanna has covering you. When we get you back, they will be wondering where you went. I am going to have Ed drop you off at home."

       "Watchers? Ed?"

       "You know what happened to Chris Sorenson 11 years ago?"

       "He was arrested on a drug charge and died in the county jail."

       "True, but there were suspicions raised about that. Two of his friends were also found dead within 36 hours of Sorenson's death. You know what happened when you made that film. I know Sorenson helped you make it. I am guessing there were other people in the kitchen who did not make an appearance on film. My guess is those are the individuals found murdered. Abigail Mincer and Mary Healey were their names."

       

       Rita flinched as she recognized the names.

       "Thank you for confirming it for me. It seems that Alanna did not trust anyone associated with those films. Chris died because Alanna had contacts in the police force. Because Chris kept a journal about his film projects - a journal that named Abigail and Mary - those women had to go, as well."

       "Then why didn't she kill me?"

       "Because you were friends? Because you were on tape with her? Maybe because she knew that you might be useful again in the future. You certainly would never speak about all this as you would be implicated as well. Whatever the reason, it is only enough to keep you alive. She still has you watched most of the time."

       "What does Ed have to do with all of this?"

       "You know Ed," Amy asked.

       "Yes. He is Alanna's father."

       "I think it is time to introduce the others," Amy said, seemingly changing topics. "The one leaning against the door is my oldest remaining sister, Elizabeth....."

       "Hi," Elizabeth said.

       "......and the one helping with the TV is my other sister Melinda."

       "Hello," Melinda said with a wave.

       "Four years ago, Ed rescued us from some shithole in Bangkok. He felt bad about what his daughter did to us, but he recently found out something that made him actually do something about it. He found out that our father did not die 12 years ago, as he had suspected."

       "He found out about the doppelganger," Rita said, knowingly.

       "Only after he went to Italy and saw Alanna and my father living together. Anyway, after discovering that he helped kill three innocent people, he wanted to kill himself. Instead, he tracked us down in Bangkok and helped us escape."

       "So, what am I supposed to do?"

       "Well, you have not received your monthly check, right?"

       "How do you know?"

       "We had Ed move the funds to a different account. Right now, Alanna is probably furious that her money is not there. You have not received your check because she cannot write checks. What you will do, is go back to your apartment with Ed. You will pack your things. I want it to look like you and Ed are going to take the money and run."

       "She'll kill me."

       "No. She will not risk losing valuable banking information by killing the only two people who have it. She will not trust a lackey to get the information from Ed. They will capture Ed and take him to her. If you are with him, they will take you too."

       "I have reliable information telling me that Alanna and John are on their island in the Caribbean right about now. When you get down there, Ed will put off telling Alanna anything. He will make a deal to tell her everything after he and Johnny go fishing. They will take a small fishing boat."

       "Alanna will keep you close, believing there is something between the two of you, and try to get the information from you. You are my distraction. While she is busy with you, and the guards are busy with Ed, we will make our way onto the island, take out the guards, and enter the house."        

       "Once we have Alanna and John under our control, we will finish with you, as painlessly as possible. If I have any reason to believe you have betrayed us, we will leave. We will then plot to recapture you, and make you watch your family members die in agony. Are we clear?"

       "If I do this, you promise it will be only me who pays for what I did?"

       "I promise," Amy said. "Trust me. I do not like resorting to this bullying, but I have to see this through and anyone who stands in my way will regret it. I only hope that, in your next life, you are not so easily led by bad people. Now, let's go."

       A moment later a woman entered with Rita's clothes. They were warm and clean. Rita gratefully put them on. Following Amy, they left the room.

       

       

-----

An Island in the Caribbean (Near the British Virgin Islands) - 4 days later

       Rita sat at a table looking out the window at the Atlantic. It was absolutely gorgeous. Looking to the west, she could see Dog Island. It was about three miles away. To the south, about 8 miles away, was the island of Anguilla and Long Bay Village. she and Ed had passed through there on their way to Alanna's island home.

       Amy had been dead on. Ed and Rita had been picked up almost as soon as they returned to Rita's apartment. The men who drove them to the airport and flew with them to Anguilla island said nothing to their charges. Ed and Rita had only each other to converse with.

       Ed also sat at the table, thinking about the situation. He knew the girls had been on Anguilla island before he and Rita had arrived. The girls had left for the airport immediately after Ed and Rita left for the apartment. By Ed's estimation, they had arrived almost a day earlier. He knew they planned to rent a boat from someone in West End Village under the pretense of fishing off of Dog Island to the northwest.

       Upon arriving at the island an hour before, Ed and Rita were shown to the patio, given drinks, and were told that Alanna would be with them shortly. Now that they were here, neither Ed, nor Rita were inclined to talk about anything. They simply sat looking out at the water.

       "It's beautiful," Alanna said as she came out onto the patio, "isn't it, dad?"

       "It is," Ed agreed, not looking at his daughter.

       "Alanna," Rita asked as she motioned to the island off to the west, "what is that island over there?"

       "It is called Dog Island. There are no settlements, but it has frequent visitors as the fishing is very good over there."

       "I think I would like to try that," Ed said with a smile.

       "I think you would like it, too. John and Johnny certainly do."

       

       Alanna set a pitcher of orange juice on the table and sat down. She poured herself a drink and sat in silence for a minute.

       "So," John said as he came out onto the patio, "here we all are. Beautiful day, isn't it?"

       "Sure is, honey," Alanna said with a smile.

       "Anyway," John said, "shall we get down to business?"

       "Sure," Rita said, "what business?"

       "You don't know," Alanna asked, looking from her friend to her father and back. "I thought you two were seeing each other."

       "Only casually, Alanna," Ed said.

       "Then, I am sorry, Rita. I thought you knew. You did not receive your check and had not called me yet so I thought you were in on it, as well."

       "In on what?"

       "The money is gone," Alanna said. "Dad moved it. That is why you have not received your $10,000."

       "So, Ed," John said, "where is it?"

       "Safe."

       "Why did you move it, dad?"

       "Well, I have not got much longer and I wanted to see my grandson. This seemed to be the best way to get an invitation. God knows that you have come up with one excuse or other every other time I have asked. Is Johnny here with you?"

       "What do you mean when you say you haven't got much longer?"

       "I am dying. Cirrhosis. The doctor says 3-6 months. I was really hoping to spend some time with Johnny."

       "Don't worry, Ed," John said. "Johnny is here. He spent the night on Anguilla with a friend. They should be back in about an hour."

       "So," Alanna said, "will you tell us where the money is?"

       "This afternoon. I would like to go out with Johnny over to that island - Dog Island you called it? - and do some fishing."

       "He would like that. He loves fishing there."

       "Good," Ed said. "Then when we get back, you can cook the fish we catch and after Johnny goes to bed, I will give you both the new banking information."

       

       John and Alanna looked at each other for a moment. Neither of them saw the harm in letting the dying man see his grandson. John was sure that, after verifying the information, he could kill his father-in-law. He would be doing the old fuck a favor, actually. Cirrhosis was a nasty way to die.

       "Sure thing, Ed," John said. "I am sure Johnny would like that."

       The four ate breakfast and, an hour later, Johnny came home. Johnny recognized his grandfather from some pictures Johnny had seen. The strange woman was an unknown; probably a friend of his grandfather's.

       "Good morning, Johnny," Alanna said. "Did you have fun?"

       "Yeah, mom. It looks like I missed something."

       "Heh. Yeah. Your grandfather came down for a visit. He was hoping you would want to go fishing over at Dog Island."

       "Really? Great! I can use my new pole, right?"

       "Sure," John said with a smile. "It is yours, after all."

       "Did you want to come along, Rita," Ed asked, trusting Amy's intuition.

       "Oh, dad," Alanna said, proving Amy right, "I haven't seen Rita for so long. Let her stay here so we ladies can catch up."

       "Yeah, Ed," Rita said with a smile. "I am not crazy about fishing, anyway. You know that."

       "How about you, John?"

       "Sorry, Ed. I have a ton of work to do. Maybe next time."

       "Working on your vacation? Sucks to be you."

       "Well, you know the saying, Ed. 'No rest for the wicked.' It's the story of my life."

       The adults finished eating and Ed and Johnny left to go fishing. John, Alanna, and Rita watched as the two got in the motorboat and took off to the west.

       "Ed loves fishing," Rita said. "He is going to enjoy the hell out of this."

       "Rita," Alanna said, "what the hell is going on? Are you fucking my father?"

       "What? No. As Ed said, it is only casual."

       "And do you know anything about the money?"

       "Only what he just told us."

       "Ok. Go sit in the living room. I am going to get us some coffee and will join you in a moment."

       "Not on the patio?"

       "No. It is going to get hot out there real soon. I would rather not roast."

       

       Rita sat on the leather couch in the living room. It was a nicely decorated room. There was a suit of oriental armor standing in one corner of the room. There was a 52" LCD TV. There was even a huge aquarium filled with exotic fish.

       Sitting down on the couch, Rita wondered what was happening outside. Like Ed, she knew the girls were likely already in the area. On the drive back to the apartment five nights ago, Ed told her about the girls. All three of them were dangerous, but Amy was the leader. She repeatedly offered a chance for her sisters to leave, understanding that this was a risky proposition. Rita could tell that Amy frightened Ed. That girl was something terrifying when angered.

       Alanna and John came into the living room with three cups of coffee. Sitting down, Alanna handed a cup to Rita as John took his and sat in a recliner. Rita was nervous about drinking the coffee, but she could not let Alanna know how scared she was. Smiling, Rita took a sip. It was good.

       "This island is beautiful," Rita said. "How big is it?"

       "It is about half of a square mile," Alanna said. "Not too big and not too small. This house was already here when we bought the island 7 years ago, but we practically had to tear it down and rebuild it. Right, John?"

       "Yeah. And then the very next year, we came back to find all of the windows broken and the door off of it's hinges."

       "What did you do?"

       "We hired a private security service," Alanna said. "They have an office in a building we put up on the other end of the island. They make sweeps every twenty minutes. There are four men on at all times. That way, if anything comes up, they can deal with it."

       "Is four enough?"

       "Oh, yes," John answered. "It is normally very quiet out here. That is why we bought it as a summer home. It gives us three months each year of peace and quiet. But mostly, they are unnecessary. They are more of a deterrent for young kids who want a place to party."

       "Anyway, Rita," Alanna said, "how have you been doing? When did you start meeting my fath......"

       

       John turned to his wife as she suddenly went silent. She was clutching her chest. Sticking from her left breast was a dart. Seeing it had to come from the direction of the kitchen, he turned in that direction just in time to see a young woman holding a dart gun. Before he could respond, he was hit in the groin with one of the darts. His bathrobe did little to protect his manhood as he was hit. To his astonishment, the substance in the dart was quick-acting and he had no time to save himself as he fell to the floor.

       "That was quick," Rita said to Amy.

       "Actually, I meant to be here 30 minutes ago, but the rotation of the guards slowed me up. I had to be careful so I wouldn't alert the others."

       "Are they dead?"

       "No. They were hit with a cocktail that will keep them under for about eight hours. From the notes in the guard building, they operate on 12-hour shifts. The next crew is not due for 10 hours. This lot will be up and trying to figure out what happened before their replacements arrive."

       "Did they see you?"

       "Really," Amy said, surprised, "do you think I would really let them be able to identify me? No."

       "Where are the others?"

       "Securing a boat. We will be leaving in twenty minutes. I would like you to help me tie these two up. The serum I gave them will keep them limp and unable to move for an hour, but I want to make sure they are completely secured before the others get here."

       "Ok."

       As Rita moved to tie Alanna, Rita saw her former friend's eyes move.

       

       "Wait a minute," Rita said. "Are they awake?"

       "Yes. The serum incapacitates them without knocking them out. They can hear and see everything. They just cannot do anything about it."

       Rita nodded and continued to secure Alanna. If looks could have killed, Rita would have been dead. The hatred showing in Alanna's eyes was intense. Rita wanted to apologize, but knew that Amy had forbidden talking about this to the two hostages. A minute later, Rita stood. Alanna, even if she could have moved, would not be able to do anything to help herself.

       Looking over, she saw that Amy had finished with John. As she watched, Amy used one hand to pick her father off of the floor and drop him in the recliner. The strength was astonishing. Looking in John's eyes, Rita saw he could not believe it, either. Amy walked over and picked Alanna up the same way and dropped her on the couch.

       "It's time, Rita. You have been helpful and I will keep my promise. Are you ready?"

       Rita took a deep breath. This was it. Amy was going to kill her. Looking at Alanna and John, she knew her death was going to be easy. Letting her breath out slowly, she nodded once.

       There was no time to wonder about it. In a flash, Amy pulled a gun from behind her back and put three bullets into Rita's head. Alanna watched in wide-eyed terror as her former friend fell to the floor, her eyes already glazed over in death.

       Amy walked into the kitchen, stripping off the thin rubber gloves she was wearing, she put on the latex gloves she brought with her. These gloves were more suited to the task of dismembering Rita. Amy got a meat cleaver and went back to the living room. Ignoring the dead woman's clothes, Amy went to work.

       First, she removed Rita's arms and then the legs. She dropped these limbs in the laps of her two captives, letting them deal with the thoughts that arose from what they saw. At one point, Alanna closed her eyes. Amy, seeing this, put down the cleaver and walked over to her father's wife.

       "No," Amy said vehemently as she delivered a stunning back hand to Alanna's face, smearing blood on the older woman's cheek. "You will watch this!"

       

       Alanna, stunned by the blow opened her eyes and did not try to avoid the scene again. Ten minutes later, Rita was destroyed. Her chest had been carved open by the cleaver. Her heart was pulled free and placed on the table in front of the couch. The dead woman's lungs sat on the mantle over the fireplace.

       Listening carefully, Amy heard her sisters coming. She quickly got up and administered a shot that put the two captives to sleep within seconds. After placing hoods over their heads, she went to greet her sisters in the kitchen.

       

       "Are you re...."

       

       Melinda's question was cut off as she saw her younger sister's clothes.

       "What the fuck, Amy? Is this a fucking abattoir?"

       "It was for Rita. I did keep my promise, though. She was already dead before I started chopping her up."

       "But why did you chop her up," Elizabeth asked.

       "It was fun. After chopping off a limb, I would put the severed limb in dad's lap or in Alanna's lap. They were terrified. It was great. You may not want to go in there though. It is a mess."

       "Is it anything worse than what we saw on those tapes?"

       "Hmmm. You have a point. It is not worse. You got the boat ready?"

       "Yes. It is fueled and ready to go."

       "And you brought the bag I asked for?"

       "Got it right here."

       "Good," Amy said. "I am going to go take a shower. Don't worry about those two in there. They will be asleep for about 24 hours."

       Amy went into the living room and stopped.

       "Hey. Can one of you bring my bag up to the bathroom? And bring a trash bag, please?"

       "Sure."

       Amy was very careful. When showering, she kept her socks on so there would be no real footprings on the bathroom floor. She used a cloth to turn on the water and made sure she touched nothing that would give up prints.

       Getting out of the shower, she dried off and used her wet towel to pick up her bloody clothes. Putting them in the trash bag Elizabeth held, Amy walked into the hallway and onto the carpet before stripping her wet socks off and stepping into the sandals her sister brought. Amy wanted to leave no skin or anything that could be used for DNA identification.

       Elizabeth was sure that the precautions were unnecessary, but would not argue with Amy. Amy was running this show and if she wanted to be careful, she would be careful. Nothing Elizabeth or Melinda said would change that.

       Clean and dry, the soiled clothes safely stashed in a trash bag, they headed down to the living room. Amy used another towel to move Rita's limbs from the two sleeping captives. She then cut the clothes from the captives and put the clothes in another trash bag.

       

       "It would have been easier to move them if they could walk, Amy," Melinda said.

       "It is easy, now," Amy said as she picked her father up and slung him over her shoulder.

       Amy did the same with Alanna and headed to the kitchen.

       "Coming, ladies," Amy asked.

       "Uh, yes," Elizabeth said in awe.

       The two older sisters followed Amy. They knew their father weighed more than 200 pounds and Alanna must have weighed more than 130 pounds. Amy, though, showed no problem carrying them to the dock near the patio. Once aboard the yacht, Amy took the sleeping couple down to the bedroom and tied them together. If the couple woke before reaching their destination, they would find themselves unable to move.

       All three girls were trained on sailing a yacht and could have done so blindfolded.....as long as someone told them when they were about to hit something. Elizabeth started the motor and piloted the yacht out to the open sea.

       Amy, using her father's cell phone, sent a text message to the disposable cell phone Ed had, sending the message that an emergency had arisen and John and Alanna were returning to Italy. Once the message was sent, Amy tossed the cell phone over the side into the deep water. The phone would sink and stop working. It was highly unlikely anyone would find it.

       

-----

Dog Island

       Ed was really enjoying his time with Johnny. They had been fishing for about three hours before the cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out and looking at it, he saw the message.

       "Hey, Johnny."

       "Yeah, Grandpa?"

       "I got some bad news. It seems an emergency has come up and your mom and dad had to go back to Italy."

       "Again?"

       "Huh?"

       "This happened two years ago, too."

       Ed could not believe his luck. The kid was not going to question the story.

       "I'm sorry," Ed said. "Anyway, your dad wants me to take you back to the airport and fly home from here. They have already left on the yacht."

       "That figures," Johnny said. "Are you going to stay with me at home? It will take them four or five days to get home sailing the yacht if I know them. I really do not want another babysitter. And I can show you the fishing near Ancona."

       "I think they would be okay with that. And I have the time. Sure, why not?"

       "Great!"

       "In the meantime, though, I think we should head on over to Anguilla and the airport."

       "What about my clothes?"

       "Your parents thought about that. They packet your suitcases and left them on the dock. We will pick them up on our way to Anguilla."

       "Oh. Ok."

       Ed and Johnny put away their fishing gear and started walking back to the boat.

-----

       John was the first to wake. He felt horrible. He was starving. There was pain in his wrists and, to his surprise, he found himself handcuffed to a chair. Moving to get a better look around, he found that his ankles were cuffed to the legs of the chair. Looking down, he saw the chair was bolted to the floor. After struggling vainly for a minute, he realized he was going nowhere.

       A groan caught his attention and, looking to the left, he saw Alanna in the same situation. Suddenly, everything came back. Some woman had killed Rita. Right in front of John and Alanna. Then Rita was dismembered and butchered. Whoever had them did not mean good things to happen to John and Alanna.

       John was a thinker. An idea man. Seeing as Rita was Alanna's friend, maybe they were just after her. Maybe John could buy his way out of this. They would not know that Ed had moved the money. John would promise outrageous money for his release and when they took him out of here, he would try to escape. It was too bad for Alanna, but John was beginning to get bored with her, anyway. She had fulfilled her purpose. She had given him a son. John did not need her anymore.

       Another groan and some movement told John that Alanna was waking up. Looking over at the woman, he saw her looking at him in shock.

       "John," Alanna said, "where are we?"

       

       John, to his chagrin, had no idea. Looking around, he saw they were in a concrete room with a large mirror. Looking up, he saw two sturdy-looking hooks in the ceiling. To the right of the mirror, there was a steel door.

       

       "I have no idea," John replied.

       "This seems vaguely familiar, but I just cannot seem to place it."

       "That is because there is not much in here to trigger your memory," Amy said as she entered the room. "The last time you were here, that mirror was a regular window."

       "I am sorry," Rita said as she looked at Amy. "Do I know you?"

       "Wow," Amy said with a smile. "I cannot believe my lack of manners. But I will beg your pardon for not identifying myself yet. Before I do, I should let you know why you are here. I will be right back."

       Amy left and returned a minute later, wheeling in a cart upon which sat a TV/VCR combo set. After plugging in the TV, she inserted a tape and turned on the TV. She left the room and returned a moment later with a chair and a TV remote. Placing her chair between the two captives' chairs, she started the movie.

       A noise distracted Amy and she looked out into the hallway. After a moment, she stood up and headed for the door.

       "I am sorry, folks, but I have some business to attend to. I have seen this before and it will take about 90 minutes. I will be back at that time. Enjoy."

       Leaving the room, Amy entered the booth. Looking at the seated couple, she enjoyed seeing the horror appear on their faces.

       "Ninety minutes," Melinda asked.

       "Yeah," Amy replied. I put all three films on that one tape. They will be able to watch all three. Hell, they enjoyed making them. I just thought they should be able to see them one last time."

       "How are we going to do this," Elizabeth asked.

       "That depends on how much you two want to participate. I am capable of doing this on my own, but you two were hurt more by their actions. I feel you two should have the option of venting your anger and grief on these people."

       

       Elizabeth and Melinda went into a corner of the booth to discuss their options as Amy watched the couple in the cell. Neither John nor Alanna could not look away for more than a few moments. From the look on their faces, Amy could tell they knew they were in the room shown on the video. Amy thought it was fitting. She looked up as Melinda and Elizabeth came back.

       "Amy," Elizabeth began, "we appreciate everything you have done to bring this about. Without you, we would not be here faced with this question."

       "Fuck the question," Amy said with a smile. "What is the answer?"

       "I can't kill them, Amy," Melinda said sadly. "I want them dead, but I cannot do it."

       "And you," Amy asked, looking at her oldest sister.

       "I cannot do it either. I thought I could. I wanted to. But now that we are here? I just can't."

       "I thought as much," Amy said with an understanding smile. "I could see it back at the camp. When shooting clay pigeons, you two were very good. But when the targets were man-shaped, you hesitated every time. So you cannot kill them. That is fine. I can do that. But let me ask you this. Can you hurt them? Can you cause them severe pain?"

       The older sisters looked at each other. They had expected Amy to be pissed, but she just kept surprising them.

       

       "Yeah," Elizabeth said. "I can hurt them. What do I need to do?"

       "Hold on a sec," Amy said. "Mel? What about you?"

       "I....I...I can hurt them," Melinda said hesitantly, surprised at the upwelling of anticipation she felt.

       "Excellent. I am going ask each of you to pummel one of those two in there. I want you to beat them within an inch of their lives. Don't kill them. That is my fun. Do either of you have a preference concerning who you will take?"

       "I don't," Elizabeth said.

       "I don't, either," Melinda said.

       "Ok. I am going to flip a coin. Heads, Mel gets dad. Tails, Liz gets him. Agreed?"

       The older sisters nodded and Amy flipped the coin. She let it fall to the floor and all three saw it had come up tails.

       "So, I take dad," Elizabeth said with a slight smile. "What do I do?"

       "I will get to that in a little bit. The movie has about 60 minutes left. I need to go get some things but I will be back before the movie is over. Please do not go into the room until I get back. I still like the surprise element here."

       "Ok," the older women said.

       Amy took off at a run. She knew there was a kitchen in the place. That would come in handy when disposing of the corpses. From the looks of the place no one had been here since Amanda, Elaine, and Michelle were killed. That was fortuitous. Running into the kitchen, she found the tools the murderers used 12 years ago. She grabbed the lot and headed back to the booth. Passing an open doorway, she looked in and inspiration struck.

       "Here are your tools," Amy said as she wheeled the cart into the booth. "There is a baseball bat, some hammers, even a flail, if you can believe it. I saw a couple other things I need. I will be back in a minute."

       Amy ran to the open room and looked around. The objects that had caught her attention were two large concrete blocks. They were cube-shaped and 24 inches to a side. Picking one up, she calculated the weight as close to 100 pounds. The nicest part were the iron rings in the top of each cube. Amy could see someone attaching a chain to the ring and dragging the block around the room.

       Amy thought that was too simplistic, but if they cuffed his ankles to the rings and used the hook in the ceiling to hoist John into the air, they could spread his legs as far as possible and John would not be able to do anything to protect his balls. This was going to be fun. Grabbing a ring with each hand, Amy picked up the two blocks and carried them back to the booth.

-----

       John was truly worried. This looked bad. He now understood that he was in the room where these movies were filmed. He had seen these movies many times over the last 12 years and enjoyed them greatly. After recognizing what he was seeing, he realized that someone had liked his ex-wife enough to seek revenge for her death.

       Luckily, John thought, he did not appear in the films. True, the people killing Amanda were covered in a black outfits that prevented the viewer from identifying them, but someone had discovered that it was Alanna and Rita. Rita had met her grisly end, but that still left Alanna.

       It was possible that they did not even know who he was. He could try to play it off as a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He would offer a large amount of money to be released. It really was too bad about Alanna, but, as he had earlier decided, he would have left her soon, anyway.

       

       "John," Alanna said, trying to get his attention.

       

       The movie had just ended. John knew Alanna now knew where they were. She was terrified. The information all pointed to a bad end for her. She and Rita had killed Amanda here 12 years ago and now, Rita was dead.

       Alanna was not too distressed about Rita's death, though the dismemberment had bothered her a bit. Rita had become a liability anyway. Their 15-year friendship had lost its importance and Alanna had been working on plans to kill Rita.

       

       "John," Alanna repeated. "What are we going to do?"

       "I don't know," John whispered in a tone that was barely audible. "We will have to see if we can reason with them. They probably think you killed Amanda. We just have to convince them it was not you. You and Rita may have those two in the black suits, but there really is no way to prove it."

       "You.....you are right," Alanna said with a sigh.

       "Now shut up. They are probably monitoring the sound in this room."

       With a bang that caused the two restrained people to jump, the door opened and the woman came back into the room. She unplugged the TV and wheeled it out. Coming back, she took her chair from between John and Alanna placed it about six feet in front of them.

       "So," Amy said as she sat down, "did you enjoy the feature? I assume I do not have to explain why you are here."

       "Just a moment," Alanna objected. "Who were those people? Why would you show us a film like that?"

       "Really, Alanna," Amy asked incredulously. "You are going to pretend that wasn't you and Rita in those black outfits?"

       "I don't know who you are," Alanna answered, "but I do not have to pretend. That was not me. I have never been here before."

       Amy nodded but said nothing as she stood and walked to Alanna. Amy delivered a vicious backhand that would have had Alanna sprawled on the floor had her retraints kept her in the chair. Amy walked back to the chair and sat down again.

       "I should have warned the two of you," Amy said. "I can always tell when someone is lying to me. It is the only sure-fire way to piss me off. If you lie to me, I will hurt you. And Alanna? That was not as bad as it can get. Do we understand each other?"

       Alanna and John nodded, though John still had his doubts.

       "I understand that you have an issue with this woman," John said, "but I really have nothing to do with this. Is there any way we can make a deal? I have a lot of money. I can give you whatever you want."

       Alanna was outraged. John was abandoning her? She was about to say something when she saw Amy stand up and walk to John.

       "See Alanna," Amy asked. "This man is not worth what you thought. He cares nothing for you."

       "And you," she said to John, "obviously were not paying attention when I told Alanna that lying was futile."

       Amy reached down and, grabbing the metal cuff on John's wrist, unlocked it. She repeated the action on the other three cuffs and then stepped back.

       "You have one chance, old man. I am between you and the door. If you can get past me, you are free. My friends will not stop you."

       In the booth, Elizabeth and Melinda almost felt sorry for their father. Although he was twice the size of Amy, and in excellent physical condition, he had no chance of getting past her.

       John, though, had different thoughts.

       "You would shoot me. Or throw a knife at me. How do I know I have a chance?"

       To answer, Amy stripped down to her black spandex shorts and black sports bra. It was obvious that she had no weapons.

       "As you can see, I have no weapons, other than my hands and feet. Now, if you have the balls to try, come at me."

       John needed no further goading, He bolted from his seat and charged straight in.

       Amy sighed. This was going to be no fun. She executed a backspin kick that connected with his shoulder, sending him to the floor. As he attempted to rise, she grapped him with her left hand and threw him across the room like he was a rag doll. With a sickening pop, he slammed into the wall and dislocated his shoulder.

       "Damn," Amy said. "I should leave it like that, but this will be more fun."

       

       She bent down, grabbed the wrist of the arm that was dislocated, and - placing her foot on John's chest - yanked on the arm, popping it back into place. John screamed in agony and passed out.

       "Fucking wimp," Amy said disgustedly as she carried John back to the chair and reattached the cuffs.

       Delivering another backhand to John's head, Amy smiled as she saw the eyelids flutter as John regained consciousness.

       "I told you," Amy said, seeing John was fully awake again, "that I know when someone is lying to me. I know who you are, John McInish. And I know that you have no money. Ed moved that money. And it was never yours in the first place. It was your life insurance policy, but you are not dead."

       "How do you know about Ed," John asked.

       "I know a lot of things, John. I know, for example, that - although you do not appear in those movies you saw - you are the reason for them. Your wife, the victim in the third movie, refused to give you more children and you arranged all that, including faking your death, to avoid a messy divorce."

       "So, where is the money," Alanna asked.

       "It is where it belongs," Amy said as Elizabeth and Melinda entered the room. "It is with me, Elizabeth, and Melinda."

       "Hi, daddy," Melinda said. "Miss us?"

       Alanna fainted.

-----

       "Well," Amy said with a smile, "that was predictable. Mel, could you go get one of those needles we brought? I want to make sure she will not pass out again."

       "Sure, Amy.

       "Well, daddy. You did not answer Mel's question."

       "Amy," John asked. "Is it really you?"

       "Uh....yes, daddy. It's me. And Mel and Liz. You just saw what happened to Mom, Lany, and Chelly so this will be it for the family reunion."

       "Then why did you hurt me?"

       

       Amy knew he was going to try for the innocent angle, but she would not be fooled. Ed had found them in under three months. Alanna knew who had sold the girls in Thailand. They had had years to locate the girls if that was what they wanted.

       "Why," Amy asked. "I told you when I slapped Alanna that I can tell when you are lying. I also mentioned that liars piss me off and get punished."

       "But you dislocated my arm," he complained.

       "And I put it back," Amy replied. "Think of it as an object lesson."

       Melinda came back and jabbed the needle into Alanna's neck. She pressed the plunger, sending the solution into Alanna's bloodstream.

       "How many more do we have," Amy asked.

       "About a dozen," Melinda answered.

       "Good. I do not anticipate needing more than two or three more, but it is good to have extra."

       "What is that," John asked.

       Amy went and retrieved another of the needles and held it so John could see it.

       "Same thing you saw mom inject into Michelle and Elaine. Adrenaline and endorphins. They will keep her alert as we work on her."

       "Work on her? You mean like in those movies?"

       "Yep," Amy said as she shoved the needle into John's neck. "And this one is yours."

       "You're going to kill us?"

       "Hell yes," Amy said, fury making her eyes a dark green.

       "What if I tell you I was uninvolved?"

       "I would look into your eyes as you told me and, should I believe you are lying, I will pummel you. Trust me, daddy. I know the truth of this. I heard it from Ed and Rita. I know you were involved. I also know why."

       "You wanted a son," Amy continued. "Mom refused, after having 5 daughters, to have more children. You found out Alanna was pregnant with your son and arranged to have mom removed from the situation. Alanna found out she could find buyers for me, Mel, and Liz, but no one wanted Lany or Chelly."

       "You had a thought, based on your chance encounter with your doppelganger. You faked your death, had Alanna arrange the deaths of mom, Chelly, and Lany. Lastly, you let that bitch sell us off to slavery. When Ed found out you were alive - and found out you had lied about how mom was lazy and didn't want to work - he found us in a shitty bar where we were being raped by customers and fucking animals. He helped us get free and we pieced the past together."

       "I swore that I would have my revenge, but that will wait. It is time for your other daughters to have some fun."

       Amy freed his hands and cuffed them together.

       "Do not try anything," Amy warned as she freed his ankles.

       John did not listen. As soon as his legs were free, he bolted up and made for the door. Amy quickly caught him by the throat with her left hand and lifted him off the ground. John, stunned by her strength hung there choking. Regaining his senses, he started kicking her.

       "Fucker," Amy snarled as she shook him like a rag doll. "I told you not to try anything."

       She threw him against the wall again, taking care that he would hit back first, knocking the wind from him without breaking anything. It worked like a charm and he was soon gasping deep breaths as he lay on the floor. Amy quickly cuffed his ankles and lifting him up again, hung his cuffed wrists on one of the hooks.

       John's feet barely touched the floor. Regardless of how he tried, he could not get off the hook. Giving up, he put as much pressure on his feet as he could, alleviating the stress on his bound wrists.

       Amy studied her handiwork and then, as Alanna was regaining consciousness, did the same to the older woman. Soon, Alanna and John both hung from the hooks in the ceiling. Amy retrieved a pair of heavy duty scissors from the booth and cut the clothes from the pair.

       "Ok, daddy," Amy said, "I have other things to take care of, but don't worry. Liz and Mel will keep you company."

       Amy left the room as Melinda and Elizabeth entered.

       "Melinda, Elizabeth," John said, "help me. Your sister is crazy. I do not know what has gotten into her."

       "Oh, dad," Elizabeth said, "she is just mad because you arranged to have mom, Elaine, and Michelle murdered. Oh, and you arranged for the three of us to be sold to white slavers in Bangkok. We spent eight years being used as sex toys by filthy drunks. That is what has gotten into her."

       "She thinks I was involved with that?"

       "Please, daddy," Melinda said, "we may not be as proficient as Amy in detecting lies, but we know you were involved. Don't waste time lying about this."

       "Yeah," Elizabeth agreed. "Don't lie to Amy. That really pisses her off. We saw her throw you against the wall. She could do a lot worse to you."

       "How did she do that? I weigh 240 pounds."

       "That is easy. She can easily lift over 300 pounds with each hand. She has been working out."

       "What is going to happen to us," Alanna asked, joining the conversation.

       "Well, you saw what you did to our mother. Amy is going to make the two of you feel that kind of pain. If she still feels that is not enough, she will probably go after Johnny."

       "Johnny," Alanna asked in alarm. "He has nothing to do with this."

       "On the contrary," Elizabeth answered. "He was the cause of it. Dad, here, wanted a son. Mom had had enough with five children and had her tubes tied. Then you came along and got pregnant with the son he wanted. If Johnny had been born a girl, it is possible that none of this would have happened."

       "But, Amy may be merciful. If she can satisfy her need for revenge with you two, then Johnny may be spared."

       "Where is Johnny?"

       "He and Ed are in Ancona at your house. They left the island and flew home."

       "Where do they think we are?"

       "Johnny believes you are on your yacht sailing home. It will be days before anyone notices you are missing."

       "Does Ed know about this," John asked.

       "Yes. After finding out you were alive, he located us in Bangkok and rescued us. Your betrayal hurt him more than you will ever know. He rescued us and brought us home. He gave us the $200 million he was managing for Johnny."

       "THAT'S JOHNNY'S MONEY," Alanna screamed.

       "Well, to be exact," Melinda said calmly, "some of it is Johnny's, if he lives. If Amy decides to spare him, we will arrange for $50 million to be set aside for him. As one of four children, he will get one quarter of the money."

       "Amy is in charge," John asked.

       "Yes," Melinda said. "And you really shouldn't piss her off. Because she was too young to be a sex toy when we got to Bangkok, she was trained as an assassin instead. She was used to kill those that hurt the other girls."

       "Yeah," Elizabeth agreed. "She has killed over 100 men already and was responsible for the plan that took out your security goons on the island. She could, if motivated, introduce you to pain you have never imagined."

       "What are you two supposed to do, then?"

       Elizabeth and Melinda looked at each other. This conversation had gone on long enough.

       "This," they said in unison as they launched into attack routines they learned at the camp.

       "About fucking time," Amy muttered as she watched from the booth.

       Elizabeth launched into a flying backspin kick that connected with her father's stomach. It was designed to knock the wind out of him without causing too much damage too quickly. All three girls were agreed that he deserved to feel as much pain as he could before he died. Elizabeth knew she could not kill him - she was pretty sure that she would be unable to kill anyone - but that would not stop her from making him wish she would kill him.

       Predictably, John brought his knees up to protect his abdomen. Quickly dropping, Elizabeth lashed out with a kick to his now-exposed genitals. She connected solidly and John howled in pain, tears running down his cheeks. Moving around behind her father, Elizabeth let loose with a flurry of blows to his back, striking his kidneys and upper back. He swung like a pendulum as he hung from the hook.

       Melinda, in the meantime, was doing a respectable job on Alanna. The older woman was now alert again and remembered the way she tortured Amanda years before. If these girls followed the same pattern, this was going to be a long afternoon. Melinda was faster than her older sister and her kicks were stronger. Within moments, Alanna's hips were seriously bruised. Melinda launched a kick to the groin that landed with enough force that it lifted Alanna almost enough for the woman to come off the hook.

       Alanna was howling like her husband. This was bad, she decided. The girls knew everything. How they found out was a mystery, but the resolution Alanna saw in the younger women's eyes convinced her that neither she, nor John would survive this afternoon. The only question was the pain involved. As with most people, death did not scare her. The pain associated with death......well, that was another matter.

       The pummeling went on and on. Forty-five minutes passed while Elizabeth and Melinda worked over the hanging couple. The girls' training had paid off, though. Although John and Alanna were seriously bruised and were in serious pain, no bones were broken.

       "Ok," Amy said as she and two familiar-looking men came back into the room. "That's enough for now. Take them down and get them cleaned up."

       The two men, Trevor and Sven - men who were part of John's security team - took John and Alanna down from the hooks and took them to the bathroom. A hose was shoved into John's and Alanna's assholes and the water was turned on. John and Alanna groaned from the feeling of cold water flooding their intestines.

       The cramping caused by the cold water elicited more screams from the two. After a minute, the hoses were pulled out. Trevor held John up while Sven punched his former employer in the stomach, causing John to expel water and shit. The same thing was done to Alanna and then the hoses were shoved back in and the process began again.

       After four cycles, the water John and Alanna expelled was crystal clear. Now that the insides were clean, Sven and Trevor hosed the couple down and set to with scrub brushes and soap and began cleaning the outsides. John, weary and weak from his ordeal, was extremely confused.

       "Trevor," John said, "what is happening? Why have you betrayed me? Why are you helping those girls?"

       Trevor looked up at Amy, who nodded.

       "I'm sorry, John," Trevor replied. "You have been a good boss and I would never have betrayed you. When Sven and I woke up, we were here. The little girl - Amy - made a bet with us. We would fight her. She would go up against the two of us at the same time. If we won, we were free. If we lost, we would have a choice."

       "We lost, John," Sven said. "I still do not know how it is possible, but that little girl mopped the floor with us. Her punches feel like a mule's kick. Anyway, the choice she gave us was this: if we helped her with you two, she would kill us quickly. If we did not, she would kill us painfully, taking her time."

       "You have to understand, John," Trevor continued. "You two are already doomed. I do not know what you did to these girls, but they are carrying a serious grudge. They mean to hurt you terribly. Nothing we can do will help you. Taking that into consideration, the choice was relatively easy."

       John understood. He had been contemplating selling Alanna out just to save himself. He really could not fault the choice his men made.

       "Amy," Alanna said, "are you going to kill Johnny?"

       "To be honest, bitch," Amy said, "I haven't really decided. There are two arguments running through my head right now. The first one says he is the real reason for everything. Let's face it. If you hadn't gotten pregnant with a boy, my father might not have arranged to kill his wife and marry you. That alone warrants the boy's death."

       "Adding to that argument is the psychological aspect of all this. The pain you feel knowing that your actions 12 years ago are the reasons for your son's death - his excruciating death - is.....well, that pain is exquisite."

       "On the other hand, if we were to judge him based solely on what he has done, he is innocent. That would mean that I would have no reason to kill him. Regardless of how it happened, he is our sole remaining relative. Will I kill my brother? I do not know yet."

       Sven and Trevor finished cleaning Alanna and John. They carried the couple back to the room and cuffed them back into the chairs.

       "Thank you, boys," Amy said to the two guards. "Now, if you will go stand in the corner, I will fulfill my part of the bargain and end it quickly for you."

       Trevor, in a moment of desperation, launched himself at Amy. She calmly pulled a knife from her belt and sidestepped out of his reach. As he stumbled past, Amy slashed down, cutting the hamstring of Trevor's right leg. As Trevor fell to the floor, clutching his injured leg, Amy pointed a gun at Sven.

       "And you," Amy asked Sven. "What will you do?"

       Sven walked to the corner and turned to face away from Amy. Amy nodded and fired 3 rounds into the back of Sven's head. The guard slumped to the floor, dead before his body hit the floor. Turning back to Trevor, Amy smiled cruelly. This was going to be fun.

       She walked toward Trevor and he started sliding back away from her. Amy set the gun and knife on the floor. Moving quickly, she grabbed Trevor and hauled him to his feet. She stepped back and looked at him.

       "Really, Trevor," she said, "what were you thinking? Didn't we go through this six hours ago?"

       "I don't want to die," Trevor whined.

       "Oh, stop being a big baby. You tried to kill me and my sisters on that island. Even before we said or did anything, you and Sven were shooting at us. Most guards would issue a verbal warning. You did not. Anyone who tries to kill me or my sisters will die. That includes you."

       "But," Amy continued, "I tried to give you a quick painless death. We made a deal and then you do this? I am sorry, Trevor. You broke the deal and now you will feel my wrath."

       No one saw the punch. Amy was in front of Trevor and then, suddenly, she was behind him. The people in the room, however, heard it. With a sickening crunch, Trevor's shoulder was pulped. Trevor's left arm hung limply from a shoulder that was a mass of crushed bone.

       With a howl of pain, Trevor spun and launched a punch with his right arm. Amy ducked under it and grabbed his wrist. Standing up quickly, she drove her shoulder through his right elbow, snapping it. She then let loose with another blow, pulping his right shoulder. Now, both of his arms hung limply.

       "Happy now, Trevor," Amy asked. "I am prepared to end this quickly if you apologize."

       "Fadfasdmaskj werwoiusa," he muttered incoherently.

       "You know," Amy asked. "That did not sound like an apology."

       She spun close to Trevor and lashed out with her left foot, driving it through Trevor's left knee. Trevor fell to the floor. His left leg - with its broken knee - and his right leg - with its cut hamstring - could no longer support him. Amy viciously kicked Trevor in the ribs on the right side of his body. Another sickening crunch was heard, followed by Trevor's howl of agony.

       "I"M SORRY," Trevor howled, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth.

       Amy nodded once and retrieved the gun.

       "Thank you, Trevor," Amy said as she fired three rounds into the broken guard's head.

       Trevor's body shuddered once, twice, and then fell still.

       "I need a drink," Amy said to Alanna and John. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."

       

-----

       "Having fun," Elizabeth asked as Amy came into the booth.

       "Fucking Trevor," Amy replied as she grabbed a Diet Pepsi from the cooler. "I thought he was smarter than that."

       "Well," Melinda said, "it does show how serious you are."

       "Yeah," Amy said. "Anyway, did you two want to do more or should I take over now?"

       "I think I am satisfied," Elizabeth said. "I think you can take over now. I will be satisfied watching them go through whatever you have in mind."

       "I agree," Melinda said. "It's all yours, now, Amy."

       "Thanks," Amy said as she picked up two more syringes. "I will be back in a sec."

       Amy walked back into the room and gave John and Alanna another injection of the stimulant.

       

       "I don't want either of you passing out on me," Amy said to the couple. "That would be no fun."

       Amy walked back into the booth and looked over her tools. Looking at the wooden cart, she scowled in frustration.

       "Mel," Amy said. "Did you see those steel gloves I had this morning?"

       "The ones that had the fingertips cut off?"

       "Yes. I do not see them here."

       "We might have dropped them as we were coming down here. I will go look for them."

       "Thanks, Mel."

       Amy looked over the tools and smiled. A hand-held torch, several scalpels, a few hammers, an electric iron, a baseball bat, and many other items were arranged on a tool cart. One of the key items was a box full of thin needles. There must have been 200+ needles in that box.

       "They were on the floor outside the kitchen," Melinda said as she came back into the room, holding the gloves.

       "Thanks, Mel," Amy said with a smile. "I am going to need them. Could you two help me move stuff into the room? I need this wooden table and the cart. I can handle the cart if you two move the table."

       "Sure, Amy," Elizabeth said with a smile.

       "Thanks. Just put the table in front of Alanna."

       Melinda and Elizabeth were happy this part was finally starting. It meant the end was nearing. They were happy to be a part of their father's demise, but this was more extreme than they had hoped. They would have been happy with him getting a few bullets in the brain like Sven and Trevor. Amy, however, needed him to feel pain.

-----

       Alanna watched as Elizabeth and Melinda brought in the table. They placed it in front of her and left without saying a word. As Alanna watched, Amy wheeled the cart into the room. With a terrible sinking feeling, Alanna recognized the cart.

       

       "Fuck," Alanna muttered.

       "What," John asked.

       "You cannot see it," Alanna said as she watched Amy plug in the iron, "but if they haven't changed it too much, the tools on that cart would make an Inquisition torturer jealous."

       "Fuck," John said.

       "That's what I said," Alanna replied.

       Amy came over holding the gloves, a hammer, and some nails. She forced the gloved over Alanna's hands and cinched them tight. They would not come off until Amy wanted them to. She then nailed the gloves to the table. Alanna, in a panic, found that she could not move her hands or fingers.

       "You were amateurish," Amy said to Alanna. "Using a hammer to destroy toes in order to cause pain? Heh."

       Amy took 30 needles out of the box and inserted three into each finger below the nail. Alanna shrieked in pain. Amy smiled at the sounds and pulled out a pair of foam earplugs.

       "Sorry, daddy," Amy said with a smirk as she put in her earplugs. "You will just have to deal with the noise."

       Alanna sobbed in agony. This was more pain than she had ever felt.

       "See, Alanna," Amy asked with a smile. "If you merely cut off the fingers, the pain fades and you minimize the pain you can inflict."

       "But," Amy continued as she pulled the three needles from the forefinger on the left hand, "by leaving the fingers intact, the nerve endings are still there."

       "And with the nerves intact," she continued as she reinserted the needles under the fingernail, "you can keep stimulating them for hours."

       Amy walked over to the cart as Alanna continued to sob in agony. Retrieving the handheld torch, she walked back to Alanna. Looking under the table, Amy grinned. Crawling under the table, she spread Alanna's legs and looked at the older woman's fur-covered pussy. Triggering the torch, she ignited Alanna's pubic hair. It went up quickly, but the woman's shrieks reached an even higher pitch.

       Amy chuckled as she looked at the now-smooth pussy. Backing out from under the table, she looked over at her father's crotch. He was hairy too. Then again, he had hair all over his chest and back as well. This was really going to be fun.

       "I will be right back," Amy said as she left the room.

       Amy walked into the booth and began rummaging through the boxes in the corner. Her sisters looked on in horror. They knew her sister was determined to cause pain, but the level of sadism they were seeing proved that Amy was not the sister they thought they knew.

       "Have either of you seen that bottle of vodka Sven had?"

       "Yes," Elizabeth said. "It is over here."

       Elizabeth went to Sven's jacket, which was lying in the other corner. Reaching into the inner pocket, she pulled out the bottle. Amy took the bottle, saying thanks, and went back into the room.

       Amy walked up to her father and carefully poured the vodka on his chest, crotch, and legs. Stepping back, she used the torch to ignite the fumes. She giggled as blue flames crawled over her father's body, singing the hair off. Amy repeated the process on John's back. Soon the only hair John and Alanna had was on their heads.

       "Well," Amy said, "that was fun. But Alanna, you are still too hairy."

       Amy went over and ignited the hair on Alanna's head. The stench of burning hair filled the room. As Alanna screamed, Amy went over and ignited her father's hair. The flames did not last long and soon, both Alanna and John were bald.

       "Much better, don't you think?"

       "Amy, please," John said. "Please let us go. You do not want to kill us. I know you were hurt and I am really sorry. Please, just let us go. I do not care about the money. You three can have it."

       "SHUT THE FUCK UP, DADDY," screamed Amy. "You don't seem to get it. We can have the money anyway. As for me wanting to kill you, you have never been more wrong in your life. I have dreamed of nothing but killing you since I found out you were still alive. When I found out you orchestrated this whole fucking situation, I knew I had to kill you. But killing you was not enough. I want you to feel as much pain as Lany felt. As Chelly and mom felt. I want you to feel the pain, Liz, Mel, and I felt. You will be begging me to kill you before I let you die."

       "But....."

       Amy did not let him finish. She backhanded him hard and dislocated his jaw. Seeing what she had done, she grabbed the jaw and shoved it back into place.

       "You still do not get it. There are only two things I want to hear from you, you fucker. I want to hear your screams and I want to hear you begging for death. Let me give you an example of what I can do."

       Amy set down the torch and went to the cart. Finding a sharp scalpel, she returned to her father. She made a shallow cut on his abdomen and peeled back the top layers of flesh exposing the nerves below. Grabbing a few of the nerves, she used the scalpel to lightly scrape the blade along them. If it had not been for the stimulants, John would have passed out from the pain. As it was, all he could do was open his mouth in a silent howl of agony.

       "Now, shut the fuck up until I am ready to deal with you. I am still working on your fucking pig of a wife, you shit. Just shut the fuck up."

       John was almost mindless from the pain. He had enough consciousness to realize his daughter was no longer sane when it came to him and Alanna. All he could do was sit there and hope it would be over soon. Anything else would only invite more pain. He remembered one of her sisters mentioning that she had been trained as an assassin. He believed it now. The older sister had been right about another thing. Pissing Amy off was a big mistake.

       Amy picked up the torch and returned to Alanna.

       "Sorry if you thought I forgot about you," Amy said to Alanna. "I didn't."

       Amy lit the torch and held the flame to the needles heating the metal. When the metal was glowing from the heat, she moved on to the next needle. Alanna continued her screaming as her fingers cooked from the inside. Her screams kept getting louder and louder until there was sudden silence. Amy looked up at Alanna and, seeing the older woman's mouth still open and hearing the air come out through it, Amy began to laugh.

       "Hahahaha," Amy cackled. "You broke your voice. I must say, though, that I am a bit relieved. I do not need to hear your screams to know the pain you are in."

       Amy finished heating the last of the needles and went back to the cart. Selecting a pair of pliers, she went back to Alanna. Leaving the needles in place, Amy used the pliers to grip the thumbnail on Alanna's left hand. With a yank, Amy ripped the nail free. Tears rolled down Alanna's face as she shook in agony.

       Amy repeated the action on the next finger....and the next. Soon all 10 nails were pulled free. Amy tested the heat of the needles and, finding them sufficiently cooled, pulled the 30 needles from the fingers. She freed Alanna's hands and moved the table out of the way. Then she started on Alanna's toes.

-----

       Elizabeth was seriously disturbed. Amy was going beyond anything the older sister had imagined. She had seen her mother use a hammer to destroy her older sister's toes and had felt that was horrible. But, as bad as that was, this was so much worse.

       "Elizabeth," Melinda said, "Amy has lost it, hasn't she?"

       "I am afraid so, Melinda. We can only hope that, when this is over, she will go back to being the sweet sister we know."

       "I am scared, Elizabeth."

       "Me too, Melinda. Me too."

-----

       Alanna was no longer howling. She was whimpering and sobbing. She could not wait for this nightmare to be over. It was ridiculous. She hurt so bad, she had lost her voice. And that little demon was not finished yet.

       

       "Alanna," Amy said. "Alanna.....Alanna.....yes. Look at me, you bitch. Are you allergic to bees?"

       "No," Alanna croaked, her voice not quite recovered.

       "Good. I will be right back."

-----

       Alanna walked into the booth. Looking through her bag of goodies, she pulled out a sturdy - but thin - glove that was covered in grit.

       

       "What is that," Melinda asked.

       "Another glove I made. It is covered with medium grit from sandpaper. I coated the glove with superglue and then covered the glove with the grit."

       

       Amy reached in and pulled out a plastic bottle that was tightly sealed.

       "And that," Elizabeth asked.

       "Bee venom. I will put some on the glove and then fist Alanna's ass with it. It is not lethal, but the venom will hurt like hell."

       Amy left the booth and went back into the room.

       "Melinda....."

       "Call me 'Mel', Elizabeth."

       "Only if you call me 'Liz', Melinda."

       "Deal, Liz."

       "Deal, Mel. Oh, and Mel?"

       "Yeah, Liz?"

       "Remind me to never piss off our younger sister. She really scares the fuck out of me."

-----

       Amy walked up to John and undid his cuffs.

       "Don't try anything, daddy."

       "Wouldn't think of it, Amy."

       Amy cuffed his hands together and hung him on the hook again. She then got some lubricant and coated his asshole with it. With a quick motion, she shoved her fist into him.

       "FUCK," screamed John. "What the hell?"

       "Can it, daddy. You actually should be thanking me. I am loosening you up a little."

       "Loosening me up," John asked incredulously as Amy walked back to the cart. "Loosening me up for what?"

       "This," Amy said, waving a baseball bat as she approached her father.

       "God, Amy," John whimpered. "No."

       "Yes," Amy said with a smile as she fit the fat end of the bat into her father's asshole.        "Please stop, Amy. That bat is killing me."

       "Oh, hush, daddy. I am going to kill you; not some stupid piece of wood."        

       Amy left the bat in her father and went over to Alanna. She undid Alanna's cuffs and handcuffed the older woman's wrists together before hanging her on a hook beside her husband. Amy waves at the mirror and Melinda turned the hooks so the two captives were facing each other.

       Amy put on the glove and poured a little of the venom on the index finger. She walked behind Alanna and - without lubrication - shoved two fingers up the older woman's ass. At first, Alanna was confused. Then the pain hit.

       The first pain - caused by the abrasive grit on the glove - was bad, but not too bad. Then the venom came into contact with the torn tissue. That pain was maddening. Alanna started kicking her legs and shaking from side to side, in hopes of alleviating her pain. Amy laughed in evil delight.

       "What, happened," John asked. "What did you do to her?"

       "This," Amy said as she used her gloved hand to pull on her father's cock.

       The glove tore the skin on John's cock and the venom did its work. In only a moment, John was howling in torment. Amy put a little more venom on the glove and went back to Alanna. This time, she shoved her whole hand inside the older woman's ass. As she pushed the hand deeper, Amy flexed her fingers, tearing the delicate tissue. Alanna sobbed heavily. Her voice was beginning to recover and her please were barely audible.

       "....please kill me......please kill me......please kill me........"

       "Not yet, bitch," Amy said. "We have more fun yet to come."

       Deciding to let Alanna sit in torment, Amy went back to her father. She pulled the bat from his ass and, after applying more venom to the glove, shoved her hand up inside. Knowing male anatomy from her studies as an assassin (it always helps to know how to hurt someone), she located his prostate and ripped at it with her gloved fingers. At first, it caused a massive erection and orgasm that caused his dick to spew semen halfway to the door.

       "Wow, daddy," Amy said. "Did that feel good?"

       John was incapable of answering as the venom was taking effect, causing excruciating pain to erupt in his bowels. Smiling, Amy left him to his torment and went to fist Alanna's cunt. Using the rest of the venom, Amy scratched the woman's clitoris before roughly shoving her fist inside the woman's cunt.

       Amy decided to get down to business. This had been fun, by time was ticking by. It was time to get on with killing these two. She went back to the cart and selected a butcher knife and a 18-inch chain with hooks on each end.

       Amy walked back to Alanna. The woman was almost out of it. The pain was taking a toll on her consciousness. Amy couldn't have the woman passing out. That would not be fair to Lany, Chelly, or mom. She got two more syringes and injected the stimulant into Alanna's and John's necks. He did not look like he was going to pass out, but this next step might test that.

       While she waited for the stimulant to take effect, Amy set the chain on the floor and went back to the cart. She selected two more thin chains with hooks. One was 40 inches long and the other was 50 inches long. Her chains in hand, she walked back to the hanging couple. Alanna was still not quite alert, but she was better than she was a minute ago. Sweat poured down her face as she moaned in pain.

       John was fully alert. He was also terrified. He did not know what his daughter meant to do with those chains, but it would not be good for him. That was for sure.

       Amy grabbed her butcher knife in one hand and her father's cock and balls in the other. With a look to his face and a quick smile, she quickly sliced his genitals off. Moving quickly as John howled in pain, Amy retrieved the iron and cauterized the wound. Attaching one hook to one side of the severed genitals, Amy looped the 40-inch chain around Alanna's waist and attached the second hook to the other side of the genitals. Alanna now had a dick.

       Seeing that Alanna - with a horrified look on her race - was fully alert now, Amy sliced the older woman's left breast off and cauterized the wound. As Alanna shrieked in pain (Amy found it amazing how her voice came back), Amy cauterized the wound and attached one end of the 18-inch chain to the severed tit. Amy then repeated the process with the right breast and hung the pair around her father's neck.

       "We are almost done with you, Alanna," Amy said. "Any last words?"

       

       Alanna merely shook her head as the pain coursed through her body. Seeing her tits on her husband's chest was kind of surreal. Looking down, she realized that having her husband's penis hanging from her body was equally surreal. Suddenly, the meaning behind Amy's words penetrated her pain-fogged mind and she realized the end was near.

       "Thank you for finishing this, Amy," Alanna said. "If it is any consolation, I am sorry."

       "It is no consolation, but I can understand that you are sorry. Here we go, Alanna."

       Amy knelt and moved the penis to the side. Without any concern given to the pain Alanna felt, Amy cut the woman's pussy free and, using the 50-inch chain, hung it from her father's hips. The severed pussy covered the hole where his cock had been.

       "Look, Alanna," Amy said quickly. "Look at your husband. Doesn't he look like a butch dyke?"

       

       Alanna looked at her husband, seeing her tits on his chest and her pussy covering his crotch. She started to sob again. The blood loss from her latest wound was making her lightheaded. Seeing this, Amy stepped behind her and, using the knife, cut Alanna's head off.

       Amy lifted Alanna off the hook and laid the headless body on the floor. She set the head on the woman's chest so the vacant eyes stared at her husband. Amy decided she needed a shower before she continued. As John just stared at his dead wife, Amy left the room.

-----

       "Amy," Elizabeth said as Amy walked past the booth, "where are you going?"

       "I feel like taking a shower," Amy replied. "I have that bitch's blood all over me and it is disgusting. Also, I felt that daddy should have some quality alone-time with his wife."

       "Are you going to be much longer," Melinda asked.

       "No. I would say thirty minutes from the time I go back in there and we will be done. Thank you for putting up with my selfish behavior. I hate to say it, but I wouldn't have been able to do this without you two."

       "What do you mean?"

       "I hate them, Mel," Amy answered. "I really, really, hate them. I would do so much more to them, but.....but you help me remember that I could lose myself in this. It is not healthy."

       "I have to admit, Amy," Elizabeth said, "that I thought you had lost it a bit."

       "No," Amy objected as she began to tremble. "Even when I am raving in there, it is mostly for show. I wanted them terrified. I got it. Now let me go shower. I think I am going to throw up as well. Give me twenty minutes and come check up on me."

       Amy continued to the shower room. She made it, barely, before she threw up. She had killed many people before, but those people meant nothing to her. She was too emotionally involved here. Had this been a job instead of a personal affair, she would have passed on it. It was never a good idea to mix business and personal affairs.

       "Well," Elizabeth said as she heard her sister throwing up in the bathroom, "that makes me feel better. At least now, I know this is getting to her."

       "Tell me about it," Melinda said. "She is good at acting, though. I bought it all."

       "Me too, Mel. Me too. I tell you, that girl is super scary."

       "Remind me to never piss her off, Liz."

       "Hey! That's my line."

-----

       Fifteen minutes later, Amy had regained her composure. She dried herself off and went back to the booth. Grabbing another Diet Pepsi from the cooler, she sat down and looked at her father.

       John had been staring at his dead wife. He was next. He knew it and he almost welcomed it. The catch, though, was his sadistic daughter. She would not make this easy. He knew it and was terrified.

       John had tried shaking his hips in an attempt to dislodge his dead wife's vagina. It was futile. He would, it seemed, wear his wife's tits and pussy until Amy removed them. He found that profoundly disturbing. Thinking back, though, he realized Amy was right. Being sorry now was worthless. If you only felt sorry because you were faced with the consequences of your actions, your repentance meant less than nothing.

       A bang drew his attention to the door. Amy was back. She looked as if she had showered.

       

       "In case you are wondering," Amy said, "I could not stand that pig's filth on my body so I needed a shower. I hope that gave you enough 'quality time' because now, I do not think you will have much attention to spare for that slut."

       "What are you going to do to me? What can you do to me? You already sodomized me. You castrated me. You have caused me more pain than I can imagine. Let me go, Amy. Please, let me go."

       Amy walked up to her father and let loose with a punch that shattered his right hip. He shrieked in pain and - had it not been for the stimulants - would have passed out. Stepping back, Amy waited for his cries of pain to subside. Eventually, they were reduced to whimpers.

       "I told you earlier," Amy said, "that I only wanted to hear two things from you: your cries of pain and your pleas for death. As for letting you go, forget it. You will die here. As for what I am going to do to you, well you will now find out for yourself."

       Amy went to the cart and got a chainsaw and the handheld torch. She went back to her father and, using the chainsaw, cut the left leg from his body. She used the torch to cauterize the wound. Then she used the torch to stop the bleeding from the severed leg. Blood on the leg would make it slippery and unwieldy.

       She walked over to the pile of destroyed clothing and wiped her hand on a shirt. Taking the shirt with her, she wiped the blood off the severed leg. Tossing the shirt in the corner, she picked up the leg.

       "You know," Amy asked calmly. "I once heard this line in a movie where a guy threatens to rip someone's arms off and beat them to death with them. Well, daddy, your arms are busy so this will have to do."

       Taking a few practice swings to see how the leg would react, she realized the knee was going to be a problem. If she hit her father with the front of the leg, the knee would just bend, blunting the force behind the swing. Turning the leg over, she swung it at her father, aiming to hit him with the back of the thigh. It worked perfectly.

       "OOOOFFfffff," John grunted as his severed leg connected with his abdomen, knocking the wind from him.

       

       Amy smiled in delight. This had possibilities. Something was missing, though.

       "Oh, yeah," Amy said. "The bat."

       To her father's dismay, she dropped the leg and retrieved the bat. Thinking she was going to beat him with the bat, he started to sob.

       "No, Amy. Don't hit me with the bat. I don't think I could take that."

       "Oh, shut up, you big baby. I am not going to hit you with this.......at least, not yet."

       Amy stepped behind her father and shoved the fat part of the back up his ass again. John howled. It had been almost 40 minutes since she had fisted him and his asshole had tightened up again. This intrusion had no lubricant and he could feel the tissues in his rectum tearing as the wooden bat was inserted.

       "Oh, fuuuuuuuck," he groaned in pain, tears rolling down his cheeks.

       "Does that hurt, daddy," Amy asked with a smile. "Don't worry. We are almost done."

       She picked up the leg and went back to work on his torso. She held back from using her full strength. She did not want to break him. As it was, he was physically bruised over most of his body when she was done. She had hit his shattered right hip a few times, causing howls of almost inhuman pain.

       After about ten minutes, she pulled the bat from his ass and shoved the leg in foot-first. In the booth, Elizabeth and Melinda were shocked as they laughed at the sight of their father's leg dangling from his asshole.

       Amy picked up the pile of wasted clothing and piled it under her father's hanging body. With one leg missing and the other hip destroyed, he would not be able to kick the pile away. Using the torch, she lit the pile of clothes and stepped back watching it burn.

       The flames licked at his skin and John howled in agony and terror. Unbeknownst to anyone save Alanna and Amanda, this was his worst nightmare; being burned alive.

       "Amy, no......please Amy, anything but this. Noooo......please Amy, stop this. Please!!!!"

       Amy was torn. She wanted him to feel this pain, but the discomfort she felt after killing Alanna was returning.

       "AMY," John howled, "AMY.....AMY....PLEASE STOP THIS......I CAN'T TAKE IT. I'M BURNING. PLEEEEEEEEEEASE, AMY! KILL ME........KILL ME.......KILL MEEEEEEE!"

       Amy smiled as she hefted the bat.

       "All you had to do was ask, daddy," Amy said pleasantly.

       She walked up to him and with all her strength, she swung the bat at his chest. There was a terrifyingly loud crunch as the bad destroyed her father's ribs and pulverized his heart. He swung wildly, the chain coming off of the hook, and fell to the floor.

       Amy dropped the bat and walked to her father. Looking at his face, she saw his eyes cloud over as death approached.

       "Thank you, Amy," John said weakly. "I just......just couldn't handle the.....the fire."

       Closing his eyes for the last time, he coughed violently, blood spewing from his mouth. A moment later, he was dead.

-----

       Amy did not even run to the bathroom. She fell to her knees and threw up violently. All the hate and anger she felt was leaving her. The evil bastards responsible for the deaths of her sisters and mother were dead. Amy had barely enough time to wonder if she was becoming an evil bastard, herself, when Elizabeth and Melinda were suddenly there, helping Amy to her feet.

       "C'mon, little sister," Melinda said. "It's over. Let's get out of here."

       "No," Amy said resolutely, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "It is not over yet. We have one more chore here."

       Amy left the room and, a few minutes later, returned with a 55-gallon drum of gasoline.

       "Earlier today," Amy said, "I arranged for fifty of these things to be brought here. They are scattered throughout the rooms on this floor. There are explosives wired to one of the barrels in each room. When the timer hits zero, the bomb will blow, igniting the gasoline. When the flames finally go out, there will be nothing recognizable of these two."

       "Wow," Elizabeth said. "Why? This facility is four stories underground. It is unlikely that anyone will find this place."

       "Alanna found it 12 years ago," Melinda commented. "Other people have to know about it as well."

       "Alanna made the mistake of recording the murders 12 years ago. There was evidence left behind. I am not going to make that mistake. When the authorities investigate, they will find nothing here but ash. I have four more barrels outside the door. Help me move them in, please."

       The older sisters did as they were asked. As they were walking up the last flight of stairs, heading to the door that would lead them outside, they heard a muffled boom.

       "There go the bombs," Amy said. "In about an hour, smoke will start to escape from this door."

       "Only because you turned on the fans directing it here."

       "True, but I made sure that I left no fingerprints."

       "But why," Elizabeth asked. "Why direct the smoke out here?"

       "The toxicity of the fumes down there will make it dangerous for anyone who goes down there. It is almost winter. Homeless people will be looking for a warm place to stay. I do not want them dying down there because of us. This will get the attention of the authorities and they will clean it up or put up warning signs. Anyway, let's go meet Ed."

       "Are you going to kill Johnny," Melinda asked.

       "No. He is innocent. I know what I said to Alanna, but he is really innocent in all of this."

       "Where will he stay," Melinda asked. "His parents are dead."

       "Do you really have to ask," Amy asked incredulously. "He will stay with Ed. The medical treatment was a success. He will still live for a while, yet."

       "Yeah," Elizabeth said. "Enough talk. Let's go catch our flight."

The End