This story is part of an ongoing series.
The chronological order of my stories is listed in WifeWatchman's biography.
Feedback and
constructive
criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.
This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racism, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.
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Part 12 - Night of the Iron Wolf
"And I can't stop 'til the whole world knows my name
Cause I was only born inside my dreams
Until you die for me
As long as there's a light
My shadow's over you
Cause I am the opposite of amnesia"
------ Fall Out Boy, 'Centuries'
Like throwing a disc golf disc backhanded, my right hand came across my chest as my arm extended to my right.
*FWUP!* *FWUP!*
The
shuriken
flew across the room. Each one found an eye of a Deputy. I dropped to the floor, and their shotgun blasts fired well over me as they howled in pain.
Kenny had sprung out of his chair, and was bringing the large Ruger revolver up to fire at me. But he aimed at the wrong person (me), and he was not fast enough. Teresa was already flying up to him, and her forearm found his belly. He went down, doubled over, and Teresa had him turned over and his hands cuffed behind him before anyone realized it had happened.
As Teresa forced Kenny up and back to the chair he was sitting in, I went over and flung the Deputies's shotguns away, then zip-tied their hands behind them. Then I brought one over and put him in one of the hardback chairs... which had been meant for me and Teresa when were were captured... in a way that his manacled hands and arms were behind the backrest. Then I did the same for the other man onto the other chair. The
shuriken
were still embedded in their eyes, and they were whimpering in pain.
Harmon Belton had not moved. Teresa went over and forced him to stand up as I brought a fourth chair and put it down facing Kenny, forming a circle of four perps. Teresa zip-tied his hands behind him, then forced him into the chair. Meanwhile, I'd re-zip-tied the Deputies hands so that the were behind the hardback chair, making it harder for them to move.
Harmon Belton began chuckling, then laughing... the kind of laughter of a man losing his mind. "Well, well, well. You are that good. And your little cunt has learned well from you, like she learned from her worthless daddy."
"Enough of your bullshit." I said. "I'm here to get the truth out of you------"
I stopped and whirled around as the door opened. Three masked men in all black came into the room. One of them was Sheriff Griswold, I observed. One of them was tall and broad-shouldered. The last one was medium height and slender, but very fit.
"I want to hear the story, too." growled Griswold. "But first... I think we need to take care of these shit eaters who have besmirched the uniforms of Deputy Sheriffs."
"Go to hell, you fucking bastard!" the lead Deputy spat.
"Let's take these two outside." said Griswold. The Deputies were dragged out of the room by the two younger men. A moment later we heard screaming from the hallway. It went on for a moment, then suddenly cut off. Then Griswold came back into the room, carrying one of those Klingon knives like those on the television shows. But it was a very real knife, and it was soaked in blood.
"Oh God! Oh God!" Kenny gasped, his face a mask of horror as he saw the knife and knew what it meant. "Dad!"
"Nuthin' I can do, son." drawled Harmon Belton. I peered at him upon hearing his voice.
"You can tell us the truth." I said. "You can tell us everything. And you're going to." I took out a small billfold, and extracted from it a syringe full of a blue liquid.
"Oh, you don't need that stuff." said Harmon Belton quietly, his voice slurring. "Just pour a condemned man a drink, and I'll tell you everything."
"Fair enough." I said, replacing the billfold in my pocket. I went over to the decanters and poured a glass half full of bourbon. I brought it to Harmon and put the glass to his lips.
"Hell, son, I don't sip bourbon anymore." Harmon said, not happy with the slow pace I was letting him drink it. Griswold chuckled in agreement. So I poured the adult beverage faster, and Harmon easily gulped it down.
"Where shall I begin?" he said after finishing the drink.
"At the beginning." I said. "Or better yet... why don't I just tell you what happened, and you correct me where I go astray, okay?"
"Fine with me." Harmon said agreeably. Teresa's eyes had widened a little bit. She should be used to me by now, I thought to myself. Griswold was nodding.
"My friend's father married her mother, then went to Viet Nam." I said. "You tried to woo her, or more accurately, you tried to get into her pants. She slept with other men, but she refused to sleep with you. Maybe that's because they were real men, while you only have a three-inch dick, and can't really get that up."
"You bastard." Harmon snarled angrily, his eyes blazing. "How do you know that?"
"Oh, I illegally accessed your medical records." I said. "It's too bad they didn't have in 1972 the same plastic surgery they have today, that male pornstars use to make their dicks bigger. But I digress... she wouldn't have anything to do with you. She realized what a contemptible loser you were."
"Worse," I said, "when her husband came home from Viet Nam, you found that he could not be corrupted, and that he fully intended to stop a lot of your crap. He crossed your path, he incommoded you, he seriously inconvenienced you, he hampered you in your plans, and finally things reached a point where this town wasn't big enough for both of you. And when his daughter beat the shit out of your son and broke his shoulder, that was the last straw, wasn't it?"