Survivor: 1 (19 page)

The rabbit's name had been Binky. Stupid name for a
fucking rabbit, but Tim had loved it anyway. The rabbit
had been a gift from his mother, for Easter, and he had
doted on it the way most boys fawn over dogs. He'd built
a little hidey-box inside its cage, fed it, made sure it had
water. And he played with it every chance he got. When
he came home from school, Binky was always there waiting for him. Tim would lose hours in a single afternoon
playing with the creature, absorbed in his own world.

Tim had loved Binky. And he was sure that Binky had
loved him.

He must have forgotten to do a chore or somethingplaying with Binky made him forget a lot of things, made
him neglect stuff around the house. His mother went after him about it constantly, and he would quickly perform whatever task had needed to be done before Dad
came home. But one day he hadn't been so quick about
it and his father had come home early. And when Dad
saw that the garbage hadn't been emptied and that Tim
was lying on his stomach in the backyard, laughing and
talking to Binky as they played, he had stalked across the
yard and plucked the rabbit up by its ears.

Tim had protested, quickly sensing the error of his
ways. Please, he had beseeched. I'm sorry, it won't happen again.

How many times have I told you, his father had said,
grasping the rabbit's body with one meaty forearm, that
chores come first?

Tim had begged his father not to do it, but he knew the
begging would be in vain. Dad had done the same thing
to his brother Doug's cat two summers ago, to teach him
a similar lesson. There was no reason to suspect he
would change his method of operation now

Dad had pushed Tim on the ground and said, Now you
watch and you think about the inadequacy of your ways
which has caused this great and terrible injustice to be
done. And then, as Tim had watched, helpless and horrified, unable to do anything to intervene lest he receive
the whooping of his life, his dad had grasped the rabbit's
head between his meaty hands and pushed them together. Binky's little red eyes had bugged out in terror
and pain, his hind legs had kicked frantically, his little
body wriggled as a horrible mewling cry rose deep from
within him; that cry had sounded like the scream of an
infant. Blood had spurted from the rabbit's eyes and nose
and then the head just exploded in a watery pop that
sent brains and thick red blood gushing everywhere. And
all Tim could do was stand there helplessly while his father killed the only thing he had ever loved.

Tim blinked, trying to chase the memory from his
mind. The agonizing screams of that baby, seeing that
same look in Alicia as she'd watched her daughter being
torn apart by Animal, had brought the memory of what
Dad had done to Binky rushing to the surface, making
him feel helpless. The feeling was so great that Tim
turned away from the scene, throwing up and crying.

Jesus motherfucking Christ! What the luck are we doing?

He'd forced himself to watch the rest of it. Forced himself to watch as Animal had ravaged the infant in front of
its mother, who screamed and moaned and strained
against the ropes binding her to the floor as she tried to
break free. Al had remained silent, catching it all on film.
When Animal started in on Alicia, it got a little easier to
watch; Tim was used to watching Animal torture and kill
adults. Even then, watching this scene was harder than
all the others. He had thrown up a second time as the
memory of Binky's death rose in his mind, and he'd had
to fight back the sudden unmistakable feelings of regret he was now beginning to feel. Jesus fuck, I never thought
it would be this bad. Christ, I never thought it would be
this bad.

Animal was standing in the center of the room over
the worn metal bed frame, naked and covered in blood
and pieces of flesh. Even the black leather bondage
hood he wore for the shoot was drenched with it. He
stood rigid, hands held out at his sides, clenching and
unclenching his blood- and flesh-stained hands. Tim
stood up from the pool of vomit on the floor and saw
with a sickening sense of horror that Animal still had an
erection. His dick was covered in semen, blood, and red
gooey flesh.

What was left of Debbie Martinez was huddled at the
foot of the bed. More of her was on the floor and walls.

There was virtually nothing left of the infant. Just
pieces, realty.

In his frenzy Animal had even eaten parts of the infant.
Another first. Tim wondered if they could get more
money for the film now that it had cannibalism in it.

"Goddamn," Al said, packing away his camera equipment. "Goddamn, but wasn't that some shit. Jesus Fucking Christ!"

Tim was panting, trying to catch his breath. He felt hot
and sweaty. His eyes felt hot and moist; he felt the unmistakable dampness of tears on his cheeks. He didn't think
he would react this way, that he would actually weep the
way he did. He had watched Animal torture and mutilate
people before. He had watched Animal stick his prick in
places of the human body not designed for phallic objects as whatever junkie whore or butt boy he was doing
wailed and screamed in pain before passing out and going into convulsions. Probably the grossest scene he had
witnessed was the first time Animal had skull-fucked one
bitch while she was still alive. The bitch had been uncon scious, yeah, but Animal didn't give a shit. He was paid
not to give a shit. Animal didn't even use his knife to
gouge the woman's eyeball out; his thumb and forefinger
had sufficed perfectly, and the woman was still screaming when Animal guided his dick into her blood-spurting
eye socket. Tim had watched that one in morbid fascination, not even aware that he had thrown up at that shoot,
too. By the time Animal was pumping his cock in and out
of the woman's eye socket, she was beginning the shuddering dance of death, hemorrhaging out of both eye
sockets, her nose, and her mouth. She had even shit
blood when Animal came.

Until tonight, that had been the most extreme flick
they had ever shot.

"Hey, Tim. Tim!"

Tim looked up. Al was grinning at him. His lean features were sweaty. And even though his hazel eyes
danced with glee, Tim detected something else in them.
Something that suggested that even Al had been disturbed by this latest shoot. "We did it, man! We fucking
did it!"

"Yeah," Tim said, turning back to Animal, who appeared to be gaining control of himself. The body of the
baby's mother, Alicia, was lying on the plastic tarp floor
at the foot of the bed. Her sightless eyes stared up at the
ceiling. Her face was a mass of contusions and cuts. Her
torso was sliced open, the flesh spread apart like a
dressed-out deer to show her inner works. Animal hadn't
dragged them out like he usually did when they filmed a
snuff flick; he'd merely jacked off over them and come inside her body cavity.

Tim looked at Debbie's horribly violated remains, then
back down at Alicia's corpse, still in a sense of awe at Animal's performance tonight. Three times was the most Animal had ever come during a shoot, and tonight Animal had come at least five times. Five orgasms, three dead
bodies.

The sound of Al packing up his camera gear snapped
Tim back to reality. "We gotta get the fuck out of here," Al
said. "Animal, go take a fucking shower and wash that
shit off of you. Brush your teeth, too. I can't have you
looking like a fucking horror-movie serial killer all fucking evening.*

Animal turned around, and for the first time Tim was
struck with cold fear as the dominiatrix's muddy eyes
fixed on him from behind the leather mask. It was the
first time Tim had ever felt this way about Animal; mostly
he liked Animal just fine. The guy was witty, smart, funny,
nice to be around. And he was good-looking, too. He really did look like an all-American boy. He certainly knew
how to put the charm on around the women. When he
wasn't playing the role of a dom, he was a financial consultant for a large international firm. He made good
money, surely more than enough so that he didn't have
to partake in the role of a sadist for the snuff and torture
films he starred in. But then, as he had explained to Tim
one afternoon after they'd dropped off a film to a buyer
who had commissioned it: "I like pain, and I enjoy inflicting it on others." There was no arguing with logic like
that.

And as for his stage name, well, when he donned the
mask and slipped into the role of a dom for one of his
and Al's films, he was ... well, an Animal.

Animal's eyes flicked from Tim to Al, then back to Tim
again. He rubbed his hand over his sweat- and blooddrenched naked torso. The room they were in was splattered with it. The plastic tarp they had rolled onto the
floor was slick with blood; it was also running down the
tarp they had nailed up along the walls. It was on the
ceiling. Al would have to get in here tomorrow and paint the ceiling. Getting rid of the bodies was going to be easy.
All that needed to be done was to move the bed frame,
roll the bodies into the tarp, and stick them in the back of
the van. Tim had found a nice secluded dumping spot a
few weeks ago. It was in a remote area; no one would
think -of looking for them out there.

"Time's a-wastin', people," Al said, winding up cable.

Animal turned and walked into the small bathroom off
the bedroom. A moment later, the shower came on. Tim
wandered outside for a breath of fresh air; the smell of
blood, puke, and shit was too much for him right now. He
had produced eighteen snuff films over the past ten
years, and he had never gotten used to the smell of
death.

Tim looked up at the star-filled night, breathing in the
fresh mountain air. Despite that bit with the baby, it had
gone good tonight. Debbie and that Alicia chick were
perfect; those in the circle had been itching for something different in the flicks he produced. They had
wanted something new, something fresh. Tim could
surely see where they were coming from. Watching the
same breed of whores and bun boys getting raped and
sliced up was getting old. But it was definitely safer. Nobody ever missed the kind of kids that sold their asses on
the Hollywood streets when they turned up missing.
Christ, they were from all over the fucking place. They
came from the cornfields of Nebraska, the deserts of Arizona, the heavily wooded areas of Maine, the swamps of
Louisiana. Fuck, one guy they'd used had come from
Alaska! That guy had been a real masochistic freak. He
had gotten off on some pretty heavy shit. Animal had
only been too happy to oblige.

But these two women ... that was a different story.
Both of them had been good-looking as hell, much
better-looking than the homeless chicks they usually used. They looked as if they had just stepped out of a
Vogue shoot or something. That was one of the requirements the client wanted for this shoot; he'd even had
somebody in mind and had provided Sam with a physical description and a license-plate number. It had been
risky, but Sam said the client would double the money to
match the risk and Tim had taken it. And then he had gotten even more lucky with Alicia and her kid.

Tim frowned. He didn't doubt Al's claim that Sam
would double the price a third time due to the fact that
they'd found a baby. He'd heard of a pedophile group in
the Pacific Northwest that was rumored to be interested
in a snuff film with a baby in it. What he was worried
about was letting Lisa Miller get away. He'd had strict orders, down to the make and license number of her car
and her physical description, to grab her and bring her
to the cabin by Saturday. Al and Animal were to do the
rest. Tim didn't give a fuck-he was being paid double
for the risk, and the plan he'd formulated had worked
perfectly.

Then everything had fallen to shit.

First that Debbie Martinez bitch wandering into the
cabin. Stupid cunt. That had been a minor annoyance,
but he'd taken care of it. He'd mentioned what happened
to Sam, and while Sam hadn't been pleased he'd grudgingly agreed to find a buyer and encouraged Tim to have
Animal finish her quickly. Tim assured Sam he'd do that,
and the three of them had driven to the cabin to do just
that. Animal had managed to draw it out, though, which
was fine in some ways, but they'd stopped production
midway through. Animal was spending a lot of time with
the bitch-he really must've been wanting to fuck this
bitch up for a long time, because he was really enjoying
it. Al had wanted to resume the next morning, and Tim
had seen no reason to disagree. Debbie surely wasn't go ing anywhere, and Lisa Miller was tied up tighter than a
gnat's ass. So they'd left.

What had fucked things up ... what really fucked it up
was Lisa Miller selling this other chick and her kid down
the river for her own life.

The minute Al heard Lisa say she could get ahold of an
infant, rim had seen the dollar signs in Al's eyes. There
was no arguing with him after that. If Sam wanted to
change his mind, that was his business. He understood
business. And as they transferred Lisa to the van for the
drive to Orange County, Al had pulled Tim and Animal
aside briefly and told them that the minute they grabbed
Alicia and the baby they were to grab Lisa's skinny white
ass too and haul her back in the van. They weren't letting
her go, and as far as the original job went that was still on
the agenda. Let Lisa think they were letting her go; ignorance was bliss, right?

As it turned out, the money didn't matter to Animal.
He'd been wanting to do a baby for some time.

What hadn't been in the script was Lisa Miller escaping. Bitch had slammed Animal pretty good in the solar
plexus. Must have been a lucky shot. But there was no
way Tim was hanging around to chase after her. Animal
had limbed back in the van and Tim had sped off back
to the cabin. Al had been pissed as donkey shit, and he
was flying off the walls. He'd been indulging in the face
Drano while he and Animal were gone, too. Tim had
spotted the mirror and razor blades and Al had kept rubbing his nose and sniffling, his pupils dilated as he yelled
at them for letting Lisa go. Animal had had to hold Al
back as Tim told him he'd take care of it. "We'll get her,"
he'd said. "I know where she lives. When we're done tonight, I'll take my cousin's truck and cruise by her place
and scope it out. We'll get her, don't worry."