The Feeder by Mandy White

channel to help with the sound effects. I placed the barrel of the gun at the entrance to his ass.
    “Looks like my friend is in the shitter now, dickhead. Time for you to get penetrated.”
    I fired one shot, directly up his ass.
    “This is for Camille and Lucille and all the other girls whose lives you ruined.”
    Muffled by the duct tape, his screams sounded like, “Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!”
    “I knew you’d like it,” I told him.
    He thrashed and fought with renewed fury, nearly upsetting the bed in the process. The noose around his neck grew tighter the more he struggled. His eyes bulged and his face flushed about fifty shades of purple. I freed him from the bed so he wouldn’t choke to death and let him flail his way onto the floor.
    Still bound at the hands and knees, he looked like he was doing the Worm. I broke out in giggles at the sight of him. It reminded me of a scene from Nathan Tackett’s THE , a satirical horror novel I’d read, in which a guy was nearly eaten alive by a demonic Snuggie.
    I stood and watched him for a moment, analyzing the way it made me feel. I enjoyed seeing him suffer, after reading about the horrible things he had done to Camille and all those other women. I felt justified in administering his punishment. He deserved it. He was a brutal, sadistic person.
    So what did that make me? Was I some kind of hero for doing what I’d just done? My actions were every bit as sadistic as his.
    No. I wasn’t. I was ruthless but not as sadistic as Dirk. There was a difference. He preyed on the vulnerable and tortured them for his own sick sexual gratification. I was simply evening the score for the ones who couldn’t.
    For the ones who were no longer alive.
    It would take a long time for him to die from a gunshot to the ass. It would be a slow and agonizing death, too. I wished I could leave him like that and let him suffer but it was too risky. There was a chance he would be found and get medical attention in time. If he survived he would be able to identify his assailant – me. I could not leave until Dirk was dead.
    This one would make the front page of every newspaper and tabloid, considering his celebrity status. I would have to make it good.
    I used my foot to flip him over onto his back.
    This would be my masterpiece. With Dirk subdued and rapidly going into shock, he was a blank canvas and I was the artist.
    I inserted the blade of my knife into his trachea, careful not to touch the jugular veins that throbbed on either side. I dug around until I reached his larynx and destroyed it. I tore the tape from his mouth – he no longer needed a gag. He tried to scream but it came out as a wheezy whistling sound.
    “Time to play Operation, Dirk,” I told him. “It takes a very steady hand…”
    Starting just below his navel, I made two shallow incisions through the skin of his belly, first vertically, then horizontally. The slices intersected to form a large cross in the center of his abdomen. I pulled the skin back at the corners, exposing the bloody grayish sausage links underneath. The bullet I’d fired up his ass had traveled through his abdomen and exited just below his rib cage. It had missed his heart and lungs but caused enough damage on the way through that he was now hemorrhaging internally from multiple wounds. He lay in a puddle of his own fluids as blood and shit oozed from his ruined rectum. I wished I had thought to bring a wine bottle so I could shove it up there and give it a kick.
    “How’s it feel to have your asshole torn up?” I asked him. It was an honest question, even though I had no desire to experience it for myself.
    He answered with more whistly non-screams.
    “Yeah, that’s about how I thought it would feel. How do you think those girls liked it?”
    I began pulling the strands of intestine from his belly. There was a lot of it. The human body had approximately twenty feet of small intestine – plenty of raw material, pardon the pun.
    After pulling all