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Clay Reed is a sick psychotic murderer, but after being bailed from prison for this horrific crime, he meets a man even more disturbing than him, and knows all of Clay's dirty little secrets.

Horror / Thriller
5.0 3 reviews
Age Rating:


Clay Reed sat in his 8X10 cell, on the bottom bunk with his legs wide open, heels on the ground, and his elbows resting comfortably(?) on his knees. His head is down, eyes closed and his long brown hair dangles down past his chin like a noose. His hair is greasy and stringy. You can tell that a shower has not been on his list of things to do. He wears the orange prison jumpsuit, his number is B1-203874. He has no roommate yet because he’s actually in a holding cell awaiting his trial. 4 women in two nights, something keeps telling him that he will need to get use to being alone in his cell. It looks like he will sit on death row if the prosecutors get their way, and with the image they painted of him, they definitely will.

The judge set his bail at $2.5 million just because it’s blatantly obvious he will never be able to raise such funds, nor does he have the family to help as well. It’s almost like the judge is mocking him. “Come on psycho, let’s see you raise this amount of money.” Preliminary hearing is not set until 5 days from now, so here he sits, waiting, thinking, rotting…

“Reed! Get your ass up. Time to get out of here!”

Clay sits there, opens his eyes and analyzes his surroundings. Was he just dreaming that someone yelled he’s leaving? He must have been, unless his attorney discovered some loophole. Yeah it was a dream. He closes his eyes in hopes of returning to that wonderful dream when there’s a loud clink against the rings on his cell.

“You hear me boy?”

Clay looks up. Standing inches from his cell with his club in between two rungs was a deputy. The name on the badge looks like Ehlo, but Clay’s vision has diminished throughout the years. Reed stands up, shakes away any cobwebs and looks at Ehlo.

“I’m getting out of here?”

“Did I stutter asshole? Yes someone posted your bail”

Reed stops in his tracks. The room begins to spin and his mind begins to wander. Who the hell can afford to bail him out? His parents are dead, his brother is locked up, and his sister is a stripper in Vegas. This doesn’t make any sense.


“He said he’s your uncle. His name is Bryan O’Neil. The background check came up fine, you are ready to go. Turn around, put your hands behind your back and move slowly towards me so I can cuff you.”

Clay did as he was asked, but he kept racking his brain. Bryan O’Neil? Who the hell is that? His father was an only child and his mother has only a sister, and her maiden name certainly wasn’t O’Neil. Clay started to sweat out of fear and anticipation.

He will not be locked up and will not allow the deputies to know that he has no clue who this Bryan O’Neil guy is. When he gets out he will figure it all out for himself, kill the guy if he must, than head to Central America.

Still cuffed, Clay stands at this glass wall staring at some fat woman as she fills out his bail papers. Everyone is a little off as this guy who’s charged with some of the most vicious, brutal, heinous crimes is being set free. The scariest and most disturbing part of all this, is there is someone willing to bail this lunatic out.

“Mr. Reed!”

Clay comes from his trance. He was staring into the waiting area to see who the hell this O’Neil guy is. The lady’s high screeching voice cuts through him and his attention is immediately drawn back to her.

“We’ve never in our history ever had a bail amount that high be met. Clay Reed you must appear at your trial or you will than be treated as a fugitive of the law.”

Clay nods as his hands are uncuffed. He rubs his wrists and grabs the pen given to him through the little cubby at the bottom of the window. He signs his papers, grabs his bag and is about to leave when a large hand grabs his shoulder and pulls him back. Clay jumps in fear and turns around staring eyes to teeth of the much larger deputy.

“You don’t show up to your trial punk.’ The deputy spits at Clay’s feet, ‘I will personally hunt you down and put a fuckin bullet between your eyes. Ya hear?”

Clay nods, wipes the spit from his shoe with the heel of his other and heads towards the door. With his back turned to the law he smiles because he knows the only way they will get him back is by a bullet. Clay walks into the waiting room which consists of mostly women and their children here for visitation, when this enormous man stands only inches from him. Clay takes a step back. This has to be the largest man he’s ever seen in his life. His eyes are sunken in, cheekbones are refined. He has thin lips and dreadlocks which are pony tailed back. He’s wearing a suit coat and some Italian Leather shoes. He extends his hand, Clay looks at it then back at the giant.

The giant closes his eyes, clenches his fist and leans into Clay. “You better shake and pretend you know me or you will go right back where you came from.”

Clay nods and accepts the strangers hand. The giant smiles and puts his arm around Clay. They walk out the front door together as if they are brothers.

When they get outside Clay stops dead in his tracks. Parked at the curb is a 1971 Dodge Charger. 426 Hemi 9.8 Dana rear end. Blower and scoops are erupting from the hood like a volcano. Clay’s all time favorite car, every time he see’s one he has to sit and stare. It got even better when this giant man walked around the front, opened the door and climbed in. He reaches over the passenger seat and opens it up and motions for Clay to join him. Clay blinks rapidly trying to wipe the dream(?) from his eyes. This is just all too surreal for him. Clay hesitates, but then remembers he is being watching, so he climbs in.

“Look man I…” Clay is met with a hand to his throat and the giant’s face within inches from his.

“Listen to me, you will speak when I tell you to. For now you will shut up. Is that understood?”

Clay’s bowels nearly let loose, but he just nods. He is deathly afraid of this beast. The giant man shoves his face away and turns the keys

The giant man keeps his eyes on the road as he tears ass through the neighborhood. Clay keeps staring at this man, racking his brain trying to figure out who the hell this man is and what he wants from Clay.

They were on the road for about 20 mins, Clay kept glancing at this man periodically. His hands were growing clammy, his leg started to bounce up and down rapidly. He began to chew on his finger nails. He’s never been so scared in his life. He wasn’t this scared when he took the life of those innocent women. But for some reason he is absolutely horrified at this giant beast of a man taking him…where the hell is he taking him?

Clay wants to ask him, ask this beast where he is taking him, and probably even more disturbing what he plans on doing with him. Yet he told this man he would not speak unless spoken too.

Clay is having a hard time measuring this man. He must be atleast 7 feet tall? Maybe 300 pounds? Clay has only seen men this big at freak show circus type places. He keeps staring at him as this man’s eyes are intent on the road.

“Someplace important.”

The voice sent a jolt through Clay. He was not expecting the man to just blurt out something. Clay looks back at the man as the man looks over at him.

“I’m taking you someplace important. You belong there.”

Clay swallows, “How did?”

“I saw how you were looking at me, you want to know where I’m taking you. I figured I owe you atleast that much.”

Clay nods, “Uh thanks.”

“How’s Emma?”

Clay felt his balls drop, and his hand started to shake. Emma? How the hell does he know about Emma? His babysister? What the fuck?

“She still on drugs?”

Clay swallows, and grits his teeth. He looks at the monster, “Pardon me?”

“She had a drug issue. A cock sucking issue too, but hey I’m sure she was good at it.”

Clay looked over at the man in a fury. “You best shut your mouth man, before I shut it for you!”

“You will do nothing of the sort! If you make one stupid fucking move I will choke the life outta you, rape lil Emma, and piss on your father’s grave!”

Clay slammed his head back. Should he call this fucker’s bluff?
“Man, you have no idea who you are dealing with motherfucker, do you know who I am?”

The giant slams on the accelerator, and starts to weave in and out of traffic. He starts to laugh maniacally. “Do I know who you are? Of course I do!”

That was the last thing Clay remembered. The giant lifted his arm and thrusted his elbow into the side of Clay’s face, rocking his head into the side window cracking it in the process. Blood runs down the side of Clay’s face as he falls into a sleep.

“Cway! Wakey Wakey Cway!!!”

Clay covers his head with his pillow and rolls over. Goddamn would someone please shut her up?


Little Emma who’s barely 5 started to poke her big brother. Clay, a week from his 15th birthday was stuck all weekend watching this little snot. His father died shortly after Emma’s birth, so their mother had to do interesting little odds and ends to make money. Clay didn’t want to know, but he knew it wasn’t good especially since there were always calls in the middle of the night and his mother always had to leave unexpectedly.

Clay rolls back over and holding her head in her palms on the edge of his bed is Emma. As annoying as she is, this little girl was absolutely adorable. He looks over her shoulder and the digital clock on the dresser reads 6:56.

“Emma, it’s early. Go back to bed and when we wake up we will watch TV.”

She folds her hands under her armpits in anger, purses her upper lip and shakes her head. “No Cway! I want ceweal!”

Growling to himself, Clay realizes this is not a fight he’s going to win. He’s going to wake up at the butt crack of dawn on a Saturday and there was nothing he could do about it.

Clay sits up, stretches, and rips off the covers. “OK kid, what kind of cereal do you want this morning?”

Little Emma puts her finger to her chin and contemplates, then says, “Wice Kwispies!”

Yawning Clay nods in approval, stretches on more time, than grabs Emma by her little hand and leads her to the kitchen. He sits her in her chair, opens a cupboard, grabs a bowl. Heads to the sink and grabs a spoon from the drying rack, and grabs “Wice Kwispsies”

Emma doesn’t like milk in her cereal, but loves drinking milk. Never made any sense to Clay, but to shut her up he went along with it. He poured the cereal, put it down in front of her, gave a wink and kissed the top of her head.

Clay stretches one more time, still trying to fathom that he is up this early and heads to the bathroom. After he relieves himself he looks at himself in the mirror. He notices a blemish, using two fingers, pops it, wipes away the remains and heads out into the kitchen to join his sister.

Clay hears her giggling, and that too brings a smile to his face. He turns the corner and stops dead in his tracks. Sitting in a chair directly next to Emma playing airplane with her spoon of cereal is an enormous man with a painted face. He has dreadlocks hanging in front of his face. He has a huge smile on his face, and it gets bigger when he turns and see’s Clay standing with his mouth agape staring at what is going on in the kitchen. The man gets close to Emma as she’s chewing on her cereal, looks at Clay and flickers a forked tongue…..


Clay jolts awake, kicking and screaming like a little girl. He stops suddenly and looks to his left and the reality begins to hit him. He’s back in the car, and whatever the hell just happened while he was sleeping…..his head begins to throb, he wasn’t sleeping. He rubs the side of his head and feels the blood caked to his hair, and starts to finger the cut.

“What did you do with her?”

“OK, let me start from the beginning…”

“What the fuck you do with Emma?”

The giant man appears to get frustrated with the present situation and looks back at Clay. “You will listen or I will cut your fucking throat!”

Clay’s heart jumped into his throat and he started to piss himself. A warm spot darkens in his crotch but he quickly clenches up and stops the flow. He’s wearing darker colored pants so hopefully his accident isn’t seen by this fucking lunatic.

“My name is Bryan O’Neil. I am here to take you somewhere, somewhere where you will belong. You do not know me, and any further details of me and my past are inconsequential in your present situation. When we arrive you will get out of this car, stand at the spot I drop you off at and wait for further instructions. Do you understand so far?”

Still fingering the gash in his head Clay nods. “This is seriously fucked up you know that?”

Bryan begins to laugh. “This is only the beginning. You will learn more before we arrive. I would ask if you needed to use the bathroom but I can tell you already did that.”

“What the fuck is going on here? First I’m in a cell, than you post the ridiculous bail to drop me off at some place, a place I have no clue where, and you want me to wait there? You ask me about my baby sister? You appear in my dreams? Dude what the…who the fuck are you?”

Bryan runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. “If I do recall I told you that who I am is not important. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

“The Ride? Where the fuck am I going? How much longer do I have to fucking wait?”

“It’s your new home. Soon. Now quiet down.”

“OH MY GOD!!!”

Bryan grits his teeth and throws his elbow square into Clay’s face, breaking his nose.

“You will not use that word in this car. EVER!”

Clay keels over, blood leaking from his nose like a sieve. He starts to cough and spits out a chunk of his tooth. His pants become a black shade of what they use to be as the blood flow freely from his nose. Clay feels the car stop, and feels the man grab his face. He lands a punch that does not stun Bryan at all.
Bryan has a rag in his hand and begins to squeeze what’s left of Clay’s nose. Clay screams in pain as he feels the crunch and contortion of his nose. The shock of the situation causes him to only sit and take what’s coming to him.

Bryan shoves his head back, rolls the window down and throws the rag out the window, rolls the window back up and puts the car into gear. Clay sits there in shock, his nose no longer hurts, and he does not feel the blood flowing. He looks at Bryan, “What did you do?”

“You were not going to bleed in the car.”

Bryan’s eyes remained transfixed on the road. He didn’t blink once, well for as long as Clay stared at him. Clay shook his head, telling himself that this has to be the craziest day of his life. He starts to feel his nose, feeling for the break that he was absolutely positive was there, but he feels nothing at all. He reaches up, pulls down the visor to check himself in the mirror when a small square pieces falls to his lap. He grabs it, turns it over, and looks at it. His heart stops, he pulls the picture closer than looks over at Bryan who still has not stopped staring at the dirt road ahead of them.

“Where did you get this?”

“Does it matter?”

“Well yes motherfucker it does!”

Bryan turns his head and stares at Clay. “Why does it mother fucker?” He than turns his head back to the road.

“Because it’s my fucking mother!!”

Bryan does not flinch, blink, or even seem to breathe. His eyes are set on the road, and it appears to Clay that he is ignoring him. Clay can feel his pulse in his head as his face heats up.

“Listen man, this has gone far enough. First my sister, now this. Who the fuck are you?”

“Bryan O’Neil.”

“I know that motherfucker!!”

Calmly, “Then don’t ask who I am because that’s the answer you will get.”

“Ok man, this is it. Stop the car now!”

Bryan grins and shifts into gear and starts to accelerate. He starts to laugh violently. “What you going to do if I don’t Clay? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING TO DO?”

Clay feels his body start to shake, he looks at his fists, a white knuckle black out. He starts to punch the dashboard putting a fist size dent in it, crushing a knuckle in the mean time.

“Come on Clay! Take out that anger on me! I am not an innocent teenage girl that turned you down in a chatroom!! I’ll fight back!”
Clay stops his tantrum and looks over at Bryan, eyes still on the road, the car now up to 80 miles an hour. Clay never realizes that they have yet to see any other traffic on the road.

“What…What did you just say?”

“I Heart 5SOS. She turned you down, you threw a little fucking fit like you did just now, stalked her, raped her and murdered her. Go ahead, try it on me…Bitch.”

The car almost seems like it’s spinning. How the hell? The courts don’t even know this, his lawyer doesn’t even know this. They have yet to determine the motive, but this freak knows?

“How the hell do you know? How the hell do you know her name?” Clay’s brain is moving at 1000 MPH, what started off as strange has caused him to completely lose it. Who the hell is this fucking freak????

Clay’s head is not all there. He has a billion questions, a billion thoughts, and a billion pounds of hatred all boiling between his ears. He takes a breathe. He inhales, than exhales loudly. He rubs the sore spot on his head, closes his eyes and takes another deep breathe.

“Listen man, I really don’t know who you are, but seriously we can work something out don’t you think?”

Shaking his head, “Don’t know who I am? I just told you who I am.”

“Yeah you’re Bryan O’Neil, but what the fuck does that mean to me?? Fucking nothing!!”

“TSK TSK there Clay. Your temper always get’s the best of you.”
Clay can feel his face begin to boil again. “What the fuck?”
O’Neil looks over at Clay briefly. “Really Clay? Does the name Paul Varna ring a bell?”

“Get out of ma fuckin yahd ya animals!!” Old man Varna was chasing Clay and his friend Kevin Bailey from his property. Old man Varna’s land connected with the reservoir which became a hangout for Clay and his buddies. They’d get a little baggie, hang out in the old drainage pipe and smoke themselves stupid. This was one of those days, except they got so high they didn’t even realize that the old man’s property was where they wandered.
Clay and Kevin, eyes glazed and shot red, their motor skills suspect at best, started to sway and stagger through his yard. Their destination: The fence which was about 100 yards away that ended Varna’s yard. Kevin was having an easier time moving than Clay, who kept finding this situation they were in amusing. Clay never heard the dog, but Varna’s Pit Bull Terrier named Max approached Clay and took a chunk out of his calf. The pain was so intense that Clay dropped like he ran into a brick wall as the dog sat down staring and baring its teeth at Clay.

Kevin made it over the fence and didn’t look back. He kept moving as fast as he could. He had no clue his friend was hurt until he heard the scream in agony. That’s when he stopped and looked back. His friend was lying on the ground screaming in pain and Max was sitting next to him, just growling. He looked back towards the house and saw Varna limping through the tall grass. Paul Varna took some shrapnel to the knee in Korea and hasn’t walked right since.

Kevin was at a crossroads, not sure what to do. Does he jump the fence and risk himself or does he stay here and wait. Kevin chose the waiting part, especially since Varna was carrying a shotgun. Kevin ducked low in the tall grass and watched.

Clay lie on the ground holding his calf as blood began to leak through his fingers. He can feel the dog’s breathe on his cheek, and that’s when he hears the loud click. He moves his eyes towards the sound and his knocked back in fear when he see’s two black holes at the end of a long shaft. He focuses beyond the holes and see’s Old Man Varna. He has a black hat on, his face covered in fur, his one eye nearly shut, with spit from his chewing tobacco dribbling into his beard.

“What ya’ll ginna do nah that I got ma piece right in ya fuckin face? Ha son? Tell ma naw ya big shot muthafucka!”

Clay can feel his crotch get warm as he urinates himself in fear. He is 4 inches from his life being extinguished all because he cut through this man’s yard. Clay’s face turns red in anger, yet he knows there’s nothing he can do. He keeps telling himself that if there wasn’t a double barrel at his nose he’d break the old man’s neck.

Clay says nothing, just stares into the barrel waiting for that final sound before the bullets go through his brain. He honestly thought it was over. He was convinced this old fuck was going to take his life right here on this ground just because he was on it. He has no clue why the man pulled the gun away, backed up and walked away with his dog following close behind him, but he did. Clay got up, thought for a second about attacking him for making him piss his pants then thought otherwise.

It was told that Varna was at a bar the day after and told this story and everyone asked him why he didn’t pull the trigger. He told everyone that it was the look in the kids’ eyes that scared him off. He said Clay had a look of emptiness, a look of not giving a damn. How could someone with a gun to their face look as if they welcome it? The men at the bar did not know themselves. This boy needed help, and he needed it fast. Children that age would cry and shit themselves if a gun was at their face. Not Clay, Clay was inviting death, something he will realize years down the road.

“Come on Clay, I don’t like this one bit. It’s a dog for fuck’s sake. It didn’t do anything to you!”

Clay turned his head and looked Kevin square in the eyes. “That piece of shit took a chunk out of my leg. What you mean it didn’t do shit to me? Now shut the fuck up!”

Kevin started to get nervous. He was breaking out in a sweat, and started to bite his fingernails. “Can’t we just burn something on his property? Or perhaps throw rocks through his window?”

“Sure, let’s be children about it. Kevin if you aren’t going to help I will do it myself. You stay back here and be my lookout, but stay in the grass and keep your voice down.”

Clay kept himself low and tiptoed through the tall grass. His heart was racing as he got closer and closer to the sleeping dog. He reaches behind him and pulls a knife out of its sheath and keeps moving closer. His eyes wander towards the house waiting for Varna to step outside and foil his plan. He turns his head and looks back at Kevin. He does not see him either because he left or he’s hiding that well.

The thought of why the fuck am I doing this never once crossed Clay’s mind. He wanted to take that mutt out once and for all and get back at Varna for pulling a gun on him. As he looks back on that day he gets more angry by the minute. His eyes water, his face turns beat read, and his ears get abnormally warm. He never once thought of turning back. The last thing he remembers is sinking the 5 inch blade into the face of the sleeping dog. No yelp, no jumping away, nothing. The dog died instantly. Clay pulled the knife out, looked at the blood seep from the hole in its face and begins to plunge the knife repeatedly into the dog’s body. The sloppy sound seems to excite Clay as blood splatters all over him. When he finally finishes, the dog resembles nothing like a dog at all. It almost looks like a piece of meat brought into a butcher shop.

Clay stands tall, not caring if Varna see’s him. He’s covered in the dog’s blood, his breathing is heavy. He wipes the blade sending a chunk of flesh to the earth and walks away. Kevin is crouching in the distance, his body convulsing as he hacks up this morning’s breakfast. He saw the entire despicable act from the distance and immediately began to dry heave, which was followed seconds later by breakfast.

Clay looks down on him, “It’s done let’s go.” As he walks off, Kevin looks at the back of his friend and realizes this is not the same person he knew since childhood. This person is off. Kevin eventually left, but long after Clay was out of view. Poor dog.

“How did you find out?”

“Find out what Clay?”

“About Varna’s fucking dog!”

O’Neil looks over at Clay and smiles. “A little birdie told me.”
Clay begins to fume, the gash in his head, well where it use to be was starting to throb. This guy and his fucking games are really starting to get to Clay, but yet at the same time Clay’s brain is starting to mess with him. There’s millions of questions going through his head. Who is this guy? What does he want? Where are we going? Why is he doing this to him? How does he know everything about his past? Clay is really beginning to lose his patience, and his wits for that matter.

“Look man, I am starting to get annoyed and pissed off, and I really don’t want to hurt you because we just met and I just got bailed out of jail and fucking you up was not on my list of things to do today. So let’s start talking, because I’m getting fed up.”
Clay’s tone was monotone and serious. He wanted to make believe he wasn’t scared of this giant, but deep down inside Clay knew this giant can see right through him. It’s just a matter of time when all hell breaks loose.

Clay never saw it coming. First thing he remembers is trying to talk the talk, than the next thing he remembers is the severe sharp biting pain go through his wrist. He turns his head towards the site of the pain. His hand is skewered to the middle arm rest. Clay screams in pain and tries to move his hand through instinct, but to no avail. His feels the ligaments and muscles in his hand start to tear. He screams Jesus Christ at the top of his lungs.
O’Neil laughs hysterically, “Yes just like Jesus Christ!!!! It’s called Stigmata!!” The cackling continued as the car tore down the road ahead…

Clay, head slouched over, drool wetting his lips and his pants, slowly opens his eyes. He lifts his head, but the weight pulls it down again, a crack is heard in his neck, that causes Clay to wince. His vision is blurred, his sense of smell is disturbed. All he can hear is a humming sound, and the taste is in his mouth is foul, almost like someone shit in his mouth. He’s finally able to lift his head, he smacks his lips together, than moves his head towards the window. He bumps his head, but the cool pane of glass is soothing to his skin. He feels hot and sore, but this cold surface takes it away. His eyes start to focus as his pupils begin to the change in light. He does not pull his face from the window, he just sits there enjoying the cool touch as he lets his eyes focus better. He at first, thinks he see’s nothing, but he soon realizes he’s in the middle of nowhere, dead brush and sand blowing past the window at record speed.

Clay’s head begins to spin first to the left than to the right, than back to the left again. His right hand grabs tightly to the door handle. The grip is so intense that his knuckles turn white. He closes his eyes in a failed attempt to slow the spinning in his head. He puts both hands to his head and rubs the sweat into the stubble on his cheek and chin. His left hand starts to burn.

Clay pulls his hands away, and looks at his hands spinning in front of him. His stomach begins to retch, followed by a foul burning flavor of bile. He keels over and let’s a thick green foamy spittle fall into his lap. His stomach keeps retching, but nothing but this foamy substance is coming out. His mouth wide, throat pushing, his face getting redder and redder by the moment. The spinning turns to a pounding as his stomach calms itself, and the veins in his forehead subside. He wipes the remaining spittle from his lips and looks back at his hand. He can still feel the knife entering his hand, yet now there’s no knife. Only some scar he’s never seen before, and this searing annoying pain from the scar. He uses his right forefinger and starts to point, poke, and prod at the scar. It’s very sensitive to his touch.


Clay turns towards the voice and realizes his surroundings again. His stomach turns again, and his head begins to perspire. This giant man’s eyes are still on the road. Clay turns towards the road as well, watching the oncoming brush blow past the car. The mountains are getting closer yet still so far away. The sun is still beating down a tremendous heat onto the car. The road up ahead is moving in waves, almost as if its melting in the sunlight. It reminds Clay of the images he’s seen online and in books of Death Valley. He does not move his head, but strains his eyes to look into the steering wheel. The car is moving at a brisk 70mph, and the temperature gauge above the speedometer says 119.

“Do you even know what the Stigmata is?”

Clay’s mouth is dry, his tongue feels like sandpaper, he can not reply, only just shakes his head no.

The giant man let’s out a giant sigh, “There was once a man named Jesus Christ, he said a bunch of shit…”

Dry mouth and all, lips cracking Clay retorts, “Look man I know who Jesus Christ is, get to the fucking chase!”

“….and most of his lunatic followers believed he was the Messiah. Well to cut to the fucking chase, when he was crucified he received three sets of wounds. His ankles were nailed to the cross using not nails, but metal rods from the church he once taught in. His hands were nailed to the cross as well. If this man was around today he’d have the exact same scar you are exhibiting as we speak. The third and final wound was to his side. When his flame of life was finally extinguished, they poked his side with a spear to bleed him out the rest of the way. Kind of like the scar you have as well.”

Clay stopped listening and stared right at this giant. His eyes squint, he looks back at his hand and shakes his head. “What? What scar?”

“THIS ONE!!!!”

The giant pulls the knife out of the arm rest, which by the way is still stained with blood, and shoves it deep into Clay’s side in the blink of an eye. Clay’s body shakes and convulses as the knife is plunged deep, than twisted. Clay can feel his insides start to shred like paper. His hands immediately jump to the point of impact, but he is surprised as there’s no knife, and the giant man seemed to have barely moved. The knife still stuck in the arm rest.
Clay can feel the blood erupting from the wound…or is there a wound? He pulls his hands away, covered with blood, he looks at the man driving the car, whose eyes have not moved from the road. Clay opens his mouth as blood begins to erupt from his throat all over his clothes, the seat, and the floor. His head begins to turn light, the surroundings begin to spin as this scene of the day fades to black. He just remembers hearing, “It’ll be over soon…..”

IHeart5SOS: LOL, sometimes.

Viperlock: Just sometimes? What’s the matter don’t you like boys?

IHeart5SOS: Well DUH! But I don’t think about them allll the time. LOL

Viperlock: Well ever since the other day, all I think about is you. =P

IHeart5SOS: RLY?

Viperlock: Oh yes, you are beautiful! But you probably don’t like me that way. =(

IHeart5SOS: Well I do like you. But I dunno, I’ve never met anyone online before. You hear those stories of sickos out there.

Viperlock: I see, callin me a sicko? Ok I’ll leave you alone than.

IHeart5SOS: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I never said that silly. I’m just cautious. My parents will freak!

Viperlock: You are 15 years old, you are a grown woman. Who cares what your parents think. Don’t worry I’ll have you home early.

IHeart5SOS: You asking me out on a date? LOL

Viperlock: Depends. What would you say if I asked you out on a date?

IHeart5SOS: Do you know where Schotts Theater is? I really want to see that new Ashton Kutcher movie!

Viperlock: Yes I do.

Viperlock: But I rather meet at the park, go for a walk, ease the tension you know before you sit in the theatre with me.

IHeart5SOS: Hmmmm

Viperlock: Well that way if you don’t like me you won’t be stuck on a date with someone you don’t like. =D

IHeart5SOS: Good idea. Montague park, by the water fall. I’ll be there in an hour.

Viperlock: =D

Viperlock: Excited! Can’t wait! See you there!

(IHeart5SOS has logged out)

Clay sits in front of his computer, member fully engorged as he rereads the conversation he just had. He has no clue why this excites him but it does. The thought of a young girl, barely out of her teen years wanting to go out with him sends shivers down his spine. Clay was never a popular boy. Girls disliked him, men hated him, and grown ups chuffed at him whenever they see him. But now as an adult, these young girls, seem to drool over older men. Sure he does tend to stretch the truth about himself. Lately he’s been the CEO of a relatively unknown yet successful company. What teen girl won’t get all crazy over that?

Clay’s finally crossed the line however. He’s finally going to meet one of these girls. Lately they just chat, exchange nude photos, and often have very sex heavy conversations. The furthest it went was a session with a 16 yr old girl on Skype. This new girl, he’s going to do it, finally do it, finally get his hands on some young “meat.”

Clay’s eyes open. It’s dark, and the car is still going. The brights are on, yet the mountains have not gotten a lick closer. Clay starts to shake, remembering that day, the day that most likely put him in this fucking car. The interior light comes on, and causes Clay to cover his eyes with his hands…his bloody hands.. BLOODY HANDS!!!!!

Clay immediately puts his hand to the spot where he recalls being stabbed. Like his hands it’s sensitive to the touch. His shirt has a rip, and is stained red. He slowly pulls it up, wincing in pain at the awkward movement, only to reveal no hole…just another scar!

Clay whips his head up fast and looks at the giant. “Stigmata?”

“No you stupid shit. She busted your ribs with a rock while you raped her.” The giant known as O’Neil never once took his eyes off the road. They remained glued to the road, glued to the end.

“We are almost there. Not much longer.”

“Wait a second. Raped her? What the fuck you talking about?”

“Well let’s try and recall. There was the girl in the alley, the underage prostitute. But she didn’t fight back because you beat her half to death before fucking her.”

Clay’s hands begin to shake, he grits his teeth, and the sweat starts to drip down his face.

“You know what, how about you tell me. Behind my seat there is a newspaper. Open to page 2, top column and read it out loud.”
Clay mouths what the fuck. His brain is still fried, sweat soaks his clothes to his flesh. His hands are shaking, tips numb. His mouth turns to sandpaper again and he reaches back, and grabs a newspaper. He opens to page two and reads the headline. Clay’s jaw drops, as his eyes go wide with fright.

“Where the fuck you get this?”

“Nevermind that. Out loud please, and when I tell you to stop you will do so, or else the knife goes into your eye.” O’Neil turns his head and winks at Clay

Clay quickly releases the gaze and looks at the knife, still stuck in the arm rest. O’Neil still staring at the road. “Go ahead. I know you want to. You want to cut me open like you did to her don’t you? Watch my insides fall into your hands. Maybe you’ll fuck me after I’m dead. Did you fuck her?”

Clay’s stomach started to retch, but this time he was able to control himself. The retching hurt the “stab wound” area, but nothing he could not control with a deep wince.

“What’s the point of me reading this? We all know what happened.” Clay’s voice cracked a bit. This O’Neil giant is starting to really bite at his core. Clay is still waiting to wake up, because there’s no way on earth it’s real.

O’Neil put his hand around the knife and said, “Because if you don’t I will stab you in the eye. NOW READ IT!” All without taking his eyes off the road.

Clay sits there motionless, eyes transfixed on O’Neil, confused, angered, and scared at this stranger. Never has his brain whipped through so many things than it is right now, and never has his brain felt so overloaded. This man knows EVERYTHING about him, and that’s the scary part. Really fucking scary.

“READ IT!!” O’Neil pulls the knife from the arm rest, just as Clay raises the paper to read it:

Ashley Grey of Tulsa Oklahoma was found gagged, raped, and beaten to death in a shallow brush just outside Montague Park. Ashley, 15, was a student of Meriweather Lewis High School. She was a high honors student, president of her Sophomore Class, State Champion in swimming, and runner up in Cross Country.She was found stripped of her clothes and gagged with her own underwear. The coroner’s initial belief is blunt force trauma to the head, but at the top of the publishing we are awaiting the results of the autopsy…

“Stop. Good. You took such a pretty girl, an innocent girl with a family and destroyed them. You took her virginity at knifepoint, than proceeded to beat her across the face with close fists. The disturbing part Clay, is you tied her to a tree with her own bra, than raped her, AFTER she was dead.”

Clay looked at O’Neil, mouth agaped, eyes welling with tears. He starts to shake, than his teeth rattle violently. His convulsions are those of a man coming in from a cold swim. Clay closes his eyes and shakes his head. “H-H-How do you know?”

“Continue with the article.”

Clay looks over at O’Neil in shock. “You’re not going to answer me?”

“I will not tell you again! FINISH THE FUCKING ARTICLE!”
Clay proceeds;

…The Grey’s were not available for a word, but some classmates told us that Ashley was a friendly loving girl without enemies. She was not the most popular girl, but she had plenty of friends. She was making her high school years worthwhile, until some monster took it all. According to the coroner and investigators there was semen inside her, and blood all over her. The coroner is hoping she put up a fight and made her attacker bleed, the DNA test will tell us who this evil monster is.

“She did fight back didn’t she? Fat lip, but you returned the favor. What about the scratch behind your ear,and on the bridge of your nose? Than the obvious part, the flesh wound and cracked rib, which you think was from me stabbing you with this knife.” O’Neil starts to laugh. “You silly fuck.”

Clay’s convulsions begin to take control of him, his stomach heaved, his shoulders shuddered, his hands shook, and his teeth rattled. His brain was on a bullet train with a one way ticket to hell.

“Where? How do you know all this?”

O’Neil’s laugh turns into a sadistic cackle. An uncontrollable cackle. “This drives you insane not knowing how I know, and that’s what makes this even better. You will pay for what you did to that little girl. Both of them.”

Clay’s eyes fill with tears, his sobs are maddening. “Oh my God! I-I’m sorry! P-Please make this stop! I beg you! I’m so sorry!!” Clay begins to weep heavily.

O’Neil’s cackling continues until it stops suddenly. If Clay notices he doesn’t pay no mind. His head is slouched down as tears pitter patter against his jeans. O’Neil begins to slow the vehicle, and that’s when Clay feels it. He lifts his head and starts to analyze his surroundings. He starts to think about jumping out the second it gets slower, but that’s when he see’s a figure looming ahead. It’s a woman, her thumb is stuck out looking for a ride. All that Clay can think is how long has she been out in this heat?

As the car slows down, O’Neil looks over at Clay. “You make a run for it or make a fucking peep I will kill both of you, I promise!”

Clay, losing all wind in his sails just nods as the muscle car crawls to a stop. O’Neil reaches over Clay’s lap and rolls down the window. Clay never once thought about rolling the window down, he just sat there absorbing the heat.

“Hey gorgeous, where you headed?” O’Neil asked the girl.

“Don’t matter, I just need to get out of this heat. Got room for one more?”

“Yeah. Hey Clay, move the seat up, let this fine lil thing join us.”
Clay examined her, hoping she can somehow help him in the situation he’s in, but it wasn’t until she said his name that his head went through the dashboard…literally.

“Yeah Cway, move pwease!”

Clay shot a look at her, saw her soft face and innocent eyes and whispered, “Emma?”

She shot a quick wink at him, than flicked a forked tongue out and watched as her eyes turned red. O’Neil’s cackle erupted until he grabbed Clay by the back of his head and with amazing speed and power jackknifed his head into the dashboard. Clay saw a flash then black…..

The music was a drone, the room was a cloud of smoke and smelled of cigarettes and warm beer. It’s wall to wall people. Men and women ranging in ages from late teen to most likely early 30’s. The party has been going on for sometime now. Most are stumbling over furniture and each other, while others just sit in the corner, eyes bloodshot, mouths agape, just soaking in all that’s around the them. Clay sits on a love seat, on the edge, cut off shirt and shorts. His Red Sox hat is backwards and he has a rolled up $10 in his hand. He leans over and snorts a rail as thick as a pencil up his nose.

After the hoot he whips his body and head back violently against the couch and lets the burn in his sinuses escape. His throat becomes dry as the cocaine begins to numb his pallet. His cheeks, eye lids, followed by his forehead all grow numb as the drug makes it way to his brain. Your body can lose control after snorting cocaine. Some noses bleed, other’s begin to sneeze and cough violently, while others lose all control of their bowels. Clay was too much of an expert in this field, he was able to control his bodily functions to an extent.

“Clay, so when the fuck do I get my money? You put $500 up your fucking nose tonight and I haven’t gotten shit.”

Clay, relaxed starts to smile. “Fuck you.” He than begins to laugh, his head still resting on the back of the couch.

The man looks at Clay, let’s out a cheap chuckle, than get’s a serious face. “Look man I’m being fucking serious here. I can’t keep giving you handouts like I have been. It’s not good for my business. So what we going to do?”

Clay rolls his head to his right, and looks at the guy sitting on the ottoman. “Well JJ, I don’t know. What the fuck are we going to do?”


“Wait JJ, check this out. I am going to pull my dick and you are going to suck on it!” Clay starts to undo his pants when JJ stands up and kicks the ottoman over.

“What the fuck Clay? You want me to come over and break your fucking face.”

Clay shoots up, stands tall, and moves towards JJ. “Yeah motherfucker. Let’s give that a fucking shot.”

The room grows quiet as the attention goes to the potential fight that’s about to break out. That’s when Emma comes out of her room. She’s barely 15, but has the body of an 18 year old. The men in the room gawk at the early teen as she walks through the room and grabs a beer. She’s wearing a wife beater with no bra, tight shorts, her hair is up.

“Clay, please stop fighting about everything, damn.”

Clay looks at his sister. “Stop dressing like a whore.”

Emma just shakes her head and begins to walk towards her room. The eyes of the room following her. Clay sits back down as his head begins to float, and his leg begins to bounce uncontrollably. The drug is setting in and Clay really needs to get out. The room is making him claustrophobic. He goes to leave when JJ grabs his elbow.

“I tell you what. I’ll take my $500 out of that little piece of ass in that room there, and than we can call ourselves even.”

Clay had no clue what JJ said. His voice started to sound like beehive, all the words jumbled into one big buzz. His mouth is getting dry, and he starts to break out in a sweat. He has never had this reaction before. He keeps licking his lips to wet them but it feels like sandpaper against them. He clenches his teeth, sweat runs down his back landing firmly in his ass crack. He has to get out, and get out now.

Clay rips free from JJ and runs out the door. He starts to bounce off the walls and doors of other tenants in the building. Most don’t mind because most in this building are either passed out drunk, in a K-Hole, or so nodded out from Heroin that the thud actually sounds melancholy to them. Clay moves faster as he feels his heart race, and the crotch of his pants get wet. When he reaches the back door he finally realizes he pissed himself, but he does not care. He steps outside into the cold October air and sits down against the brick of the building. The cold night air feels great against his skin. What the fuck was in that coke? Years later Clay would find out that his good friend JJ slipped him something brand new called Crystal Meth.

Clay came to about 4-5 hours later in the hatchback of his neighbors Dodge Shadow. He had no clue how he got in there, and he had no clue how he got in there naked. He looks around finds his pants. They are damp, he puts them to his face to smell whatever the hell it was that was making them wet and he pulled them away in disgust. The piss smell causes Clay to keel over and vomit inside the car.

He tries to clear his head from whatever it was that was clouding it over. He wipes the spittle from his lips and grits his teeth as he puts the piss infected pants back on. Either the drug has warmed his blood up, or it did not get that cold last night because one would think being naked in a car in October would cause hypothermia or some shit, but for some reason Clay is still sweating.

He gets himself dressed, climbs over the backseat, and climbs out the passenger side so he does not disrupt the child seat with his piss stained pants. He shuts the door, gives a quick stretch, and walks back inside. The hallway still smells like shit, so it’s good to see that nothing extreme happened last night. He reaches his apartment, the door still ajar, obviously from people leaving the party early and not of sound mind to shut it tightly. There’s only a few people still sprawled passed out on the floor, however the place is trashed. Clay decides he will have Emma clean it after he wakes up again. Speaking of Emma…

Clay stands outside her door and taps quietly. He taps again and puts his ear to the door. He can’t hear a thing. She usually has the TV up so loud that you can’t hear yourself think. He holds onto the handle, turns it quietly and whispers her name. He steps into the room, and he nearly falls on his face at the sight. Lying in her bed, stripped and tied up is his sister Emma. She is badly bruised, blood running from between her legs, rope burns around her throat. Clay jumps onto the bed and starts to untie her.

“Emma, my God Emma! Talk to me!!”

Clay slows down, thinking he should be more gentle in this situation just in case she’s badly hurt.

Emma opens her eyes, “Why Clay?”

Clay’s eyes open to a blur, he shakes his head as if to shake away any cobwebs. It takes him a few seconds to figure out where he’s at, but when he does all hopes of running away are crushed. He’s stuck in this fucking car with this fucking asshole at the wheel. Clay hears a cough from behind him. He slowly turns his head and see’s the very same girl that was picked up hitchhiking earlier before….before this motherfucker drove his head into the dash!

“Who’s she?”

O’Neil looks over at Clay with a look of shock. “Are you serious? What were you just dreaming about?”

The shock of all this has finally subsided. Sure Clay has no clue how the hell this motherfucker knows what he’s thinking and dreaming, but Clay has accepted the fact he does.

“I had a nightmare about the day I came home to find my little sister raped and beaten.”

“DING DING DING!! We have ourselves a winner!!!”

Clay stirs a bit, more confused than he ever has been in his life. He looks over at O’Neil, almost expecting him to tell Clay what the missing puzzle piece is.

O’Neil looks into the rearview mirror. “Hey sweetheart, tell Mr Wonderful here who you are.”

She takes her sunglasses off and looks at Clay. “My name is Emily Reed.” She shoots a wink at Clay and puts her sunglasses on.

A lump explodes in Clay’s throat, and the tingling sensation you get when going down the first hill of a roller coaster takes over his stomach. Her eyes, he knew immediately it was her! A smile comes across his face as he’s reunited with his sister for the first time since that day.

“Em! Wow what a small world. You look great!!”

“Fuck off Clay!”

Those three words rattle Clay to the core. He has not seen her in who knows how many years and the very first words that ever came out of her mouth when they see each other again are ‘Fuck Off’?

“Emma, what was that all about?” Clay looks back at his sister.

He no longer realizes he’s in the car. It’s just him and Emma right now.

O’Neil looks back into the rearview mirror. Than puts his eyes on the road and continues on without saying a word.

“You think I would be happy to see you after everything that happened? Are you that fucking stupid Clay? Or are you just high like you always were?” Her face is that of scorn. She’s looking at her brother as if he’s the most evil man she’s ever met.

“Emma slow down. This day has been completely fucked up for me and I don’t know what on earth is going on. I am in jail, the next second this fucking lunatic in the front seat is bailing me out, stabbing me, than blaming it on stigma or whatever the fuck it is. He knows everything about me. We’ve been on the same road for hours and now we pick you, my sister up hitchhiking out here. So I am sorry if I am not able to catch onto what you are saying.”

Emma looks at her brother, rolls down the window and spits. She rolls it back up, crosses her arms and stares at the back of the seat in front of her. Clay watches a tear fall from her left eye, than another from her right. She finally covers her face with her hands and sobs.

“Emma? What’s wrong? You can tell me anything. I’m your brother.”

She pulls her hands from her face, reaches into her purse and wipes her eyes with a crumbled up tissue. “Brother? You think a brother would really do what you did?”

“Do what?”

“Oh play stupid now. You don’t remember the last time we saw each other Clay? I’m sure you do!”

Clay is baffled. Of course he remembers. She was being taken away in an ambulance after she was raped and beaten, but how is that his fault?

“Yes I do. Look I am sorry I vanished like that Emma. I never wanted anything bad to happen to you, and when I saw what was done to you I felt it was best I left because I would kill that person and than I’d be in jail for life. I am sorry.”

Emma stares at her brother in disbelief. He mouth is open, her eyes wide, her hands start to shake. “You fucking kidding me? You and fucking disease named JJ fucking raped me because you couldn’t pay your drug debts!!

Clay stares at her. His eyes show no emotion. He recalls none of what she’s talking about.

“No Emma that’s not true. But it was JJ? JJ did that to you?”

“Don’t play fucking stupid Clay!! You were there too! My own fucking brother stole my virginity while your friend chokes me out. Fuck you Clay!”

“No Emma, that couldn’t have happened!”

“Clay you went outside, had a cigarette, came back , told JJ he could take his debt out on me as long as you were able to go first. When you were done you left me there and went back outside!! Of course you don’t remember motherfucker you were so fucking stoned!!”

Clay’s world is crashing around him now. There’s no way on earth he could have possibly done it. There’s no way in hell.

“You did it. I saw everything” a voice boomed.

Clay turns attention back to O’Neil.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You raped her Clay. Hell dude I am a sick motherfucker, but even I have my limits. Raping my sister? That’s fucked up.”

“Fuck you! You have no clue what you are talking about. Once this car stops bro I am breaking your fucking neck, and taking my sister with me!”

Emma retorts back, “Clay, I am going nowhere with you.”

Clay turns back around just in enough time to see Emma put the pistol in her mouth, pull the trigger , and a chunk of her skull and brains shatter the back window.


Clay fights with his seat belt as he watches the body of his baby sister fold like a cheap suit in the back seat of the car. The hole in her mouth becomes a waterfall of blood and sputum. He keeps fighting, but the seat belt for some reason is holding him back.

“Stop this car right now!!” Clay screams at O’Neil.

“No can do my man. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

Clay stops and looks over at O’Neil in shock. “You fucking serious??? Stop this fucking car NOW!!”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do Clay. The bitch is dead. We will stop up ahead in a bit, dig a grave, say a prayer than chuck her dead ass in the hole and continue with our trip.”

Clay sits back down, his body shaking, adrenaline has taken over his entire body. He looks down and see’s the knife still stuck in the armrest. Has it always been here? Who cares, do what needs to be done.

Clay screams loudly, rips the knife from the arm rest and starts to stab O’Neil in the face and throat repeatedly. The muscle car starts to weave in and out as the blood begins to spurt from O’Neil’s wounds. The slicing and slurping sound of metal against flesh becomes more muddled as Clay begins to hack at wounds he just created.

The car finally veers off the road and begins to bounce up and down against the rough terrain until inertia stops it dead in its tracks head on against a giant boulder. Clay was able to see the boulder coming at the last second, so he stopped the stabbing and braced himself for impact. He hit his head on the dashboard again, bounced off and smacked against the window. The windshield shattered into pieces, as the car folded like an accordion. Emma’s body from the back was ejected through the front window and landed against the rock with a disgusting cracking sound. The impact shattered every bone in her body like she was a suicide jumper from a tall building.

Clay was knocked out for a few minutes. When he came too he sat back. His throat and face burning a pain so severe he didn’t think he was going to live, and that’s when he realized he wasn’t. He turned his head to the left, the pain more intense, to see if O’Neil was alive only to see nothing but a window. He looked forward and noticed the steering wheeled wedged into his chest. He moved his head a little more to the right and standing outside the car was O’Neil. He’s standing there brushing the dust and dirt from his clothes. He leans down and looks into the mangled car.

Blood is leaking from the stab wounds in Clay’s face, yet he remembers perfectly stabbing the holy hell out of O’Neil only minutes ago. Clay’s body begins to shake with the burn as blood is exiting his body at an alarming rate. He can’t move his jaw to speak, and his right eye is no longer there.

“Hey Clay.”

Clay moves his head with the last bit of strength he has in his body to O’Neil who’s still looking into the car uninjured.

“We’re here. Told you it wasn’t much longer. Let me Welcome you to Hell.”

Just as fast as he said that the body of O’Neil vanished into thin air. Clay sat there for only a few seconds longer as the car erupted into flames…..

Clay Reed was executed for his crimes by the state of Oklahoma via Lethal Injection 2 days to the writing of these annals.....

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