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A little further it’s pushed in.
Tap.
A little deeper it goes, breaking through the skin.
Tap.
Breaking through muscles.
Tap.
A bone somewhere in there fractures into pieces.
Tap.
Bubbling laughter escapes Simon’s mouth.
Tap. Tap. Tap
Each tap light enough to drag the experience out.
When he gets the spike through the arm, Simon slams the sledgehammer twice into Coss’s hand. Shattering bones and mashing sinew.
Then he slams the hammer down directly on the nail’s head, finally driving it into the wood.
“You even spread poison from your infested dick into our mother,” Simon says quietly. “You fucking refused to tell her or have her treated for the disease you gave her, but happily treated and cleaned yourself.
Gabriel sneers. “You ruined everything our family could have been.”
“You fucking betrayed our family out of jealousy,” I say. “You couldn’t just sit back. You set us all up, seeking your former glory.”
Standing up from the ground, I go over to the table and pluck up the scissors. Returning to Coss, I cut off his clothing.
Once we have him fully naked, we each grab a side of the cross and move it to the pedestal on the floor.
Wrapping rope around the toggle bolts at the top of the cross, we pull it tight and slowly lift the cross into the air.
Coss’s heavy body slumps down, gravity pulling him towards the floor.
I’m not sure if it’s the blood rushing to his head or if it’s that dying moment of clarity some people get when they’re close to their deaths, but Coss’s eyes snap open.
He looks around at us all.
Almost foaming from the mouth, I can feel his venomous rage seeping from his pores.
Face flushed red, he looks demonic. “How dare you? How dare you think you’ll get away with this? I’ll have you all fucking killed! Do you even know what you’ve just started? I could have—”
“I hardly think that’ll happen now, you sanctimonious prick!” Johnathan yells over the top of him.
“Forgive us, dear father, for we have sinned,” Simon mocks Coss in a simpering voice. “What is our penance for spying on you? What acts of contrition must we do to be right with the Lord?”
“You should have died with your sister, you weakling,” Coss spits at Simon. “You can’t even fucking walk across a floor without having to be coddled. Poor Simon, afraid of getting a cold.”
Before any of us can move, Gabriel is across the floor and slamming a blade into Coss’s stomach.
His voice is low but the pure hatred unmistakable. “Don’t you fucking say a word about my brother again!”
Sputtering, I don’t think Coss truly expected that.
