Trouble in Hell (Hell Night 1)

“This ain’t right,” he growls. My lip curls in disgust when spit flies from his mouth. “Y’all ain’t God. You got no right to say who lives and who dies,” he continues his feeble attempt to stop his execution.

JW laughs darkly. “You really think God would spare you after what you did to your children?”

Watters’s eyes narrow. “I’ve asked for forgiveness.”

“And he only grants it if the person asking is sincere,” Judge deadpans. When Watters opens his mouth to spew more shit, Judge barks, “Enough. This is pointless. Let The Finishing begin.”

Judge looks at JW, Emo, then myself, giving us all a nod. Reaching behind me, I grab the gun in the back of my waist band while the other three do the same. Flicking off the safety, I point it straight at Watters. The others do the same, making sure our aim isn’t pointing to the person across from us should the bullet go straight through.

“May Lucifer welcome you with open arms,” Judge says grimly, starting the dictum we say at all Finishings.

A wet spot forms on the front of Watters’s pants where he pisses himself. The action only sends satisfaction through me. He should be fucking scared.

“And deliver you to the darkest pits of hell,” Emo adds menacingly.

“To live out an eternity for the evil deeds you’ve bestowed,” JW says his part.

“Shall you not rest in peace,” I finish.

As soon as the words leave my lips, shots are fired, including mine. Watters is hit between his eyes, the heart, the base of his neck, and the groin where his femoral artery is. All locations are kill shots.

We may be killers of those we deem warrant the act, but we don’t believe in suffering, even if the person deserves it. Or rather, most of the time we don’t believe in suffering.

Watters lays face down in the grass and blood flows from his wounds, soaking into the ground below him. I put my gun back in my waistband and walk over to the body. I stand over him for a moment.

“Good fuckin’ riddance,” Emo mutters beside me. Glancing over, I notice his hand is in a fist, no doubt digging the key into his palm.

“Let’s get this done,” Judge says, walking over and grabbing Watters’s arms. JW moves to his feet, and between the both of them, they carry the body to the hole already dug in the ground and dump him inside. Nothing will be put over Watters’s grave to mark his final resting place. He’s not worthy of that luxury.

Most people would find our tactics cruel, unjust, and a number of other words. They’d claim, like Watters, we aren’t God and have no right to take lives. That they deserve to be put before a Judge and jury and plead their case, or that they’re all innocent until proven guilty. That would be the just and right thing to do.

Fuck the justice system. The justice system lets criminals walk free every day. The innocent are charged with crimes they never committed and the guilty are set free. Children are abused in hideous ways that affect their entire lives while the offenders receive an appalling five-years. Woman are raped, and their attackers get a slap on the wrist and a three-year probation.

That’s not justice. What my brothers and I do in Malus, that’s justice.

We don’t see crime in Malus. It’s very rare to come across someone of Watters making. We don’t kill for sport and the Expiration sentence is only doled out to people who abuse women or children. Women and children are precious in our community. For those who commit lesser crimes, they’re dealt with in other, less harsh, ways. In the ten years my brothers and I have been in Malus, we’ve performed the Finishing seven times. Each of those crimes were abhorrent. Had they been sent to the county for sentencing, their sentence wouldn’t have been shit compared to what they really deserved. We ensure our town stays safe from parasites like Watters.

I’m pulled back to the moment when JW tosses a shovel at me. We all work on covering the body. We always share this task.

With the four of us, it doesn’t take long before it’s finished. I lift my shirt and wipe away the sweat dripping down my face. Without a backward glance at the mound of dirt, we turn and make our way back to our vehicles. It’s done, there’s no sense standing around.

I stop at the side of my car and face the others. “The woman, she’s still in town,” I tell them.

“What the fuck, Trouble?” Judge snarls. “She was supposed to be gone yesterday.”

My jaw hardens at his harsh tone. “I fucking know that, but her car’s a piece of shit and Mick’s having a hard time finding the parts.”

“You’re saying we just murdered a man with an outsider in town? Goddamn it!” he explodes, throwing his hands on his hips and dropping his head.

“It’s not like she’s going to be waltzing into the clearing,” I argue.

“You don’t fuckin’ know that. It’s certainly a possibility.”

“Yes, I do. She’s staying with Susan and she knows not to let her out of her sight tonight.”

“But if she had?” JW interjects.

I shoot him a glare. “Then we would have dealt with it.”