The Saints' Devil

XL

Present day

"Too late," Frank said, watching as Charlie's fathers' face went horribly pale, the echoes of distant noises growing louder and louder and soon the sound of screams of pain echoing with the bangs.

"What the fuck are you two standing there for?!" her father snapped to the two men in the room. "Get your asses out there!"

Without hesitation, they rushed out of the room, leaving him alone with his daughter and his daughters boyfriend.

"Good job, Devil," he said, stomping over to Charlie, his knife clutched in his hand. "You are going to be the reason she dies."

Frank watched in horror as he stabbed the knife deep into her thigh. Charlie's unconscious stand was obliterated as her head lifted and a blood curdling scream escaped her lips. Frank watched as he twisted the knife in her thigh, the deep red liquid pooling and squirting out from the wound as he continued to twist and dig the knife into her leg.

She continued to scream and flinch and wince in pain, trying to move away from the knife but only seeming to worsen the wound. 

Something deep within Frank had snapped, he was hit with an extreme adrenaline rush as a response to Charlie's blood curdling screams. The rage that had boiled up for a month now and the rage he felt in that moment allowed him to give one finally jerk to the weakened restraints and break free.

However, her father was too engrossed into the deep wound he was inflicting upon her that he did not see the Devil rise behind him. It was like the room had darkened significantly, Frank removed the rest of his restraints, his wrists raw and bloody from constantly rubbing against the rope, and slowly placed his mask back on his face.

Suddenly, feeling the presence of someone behind him, he turned around, coming face to face with that stained, emotionless mask, the color draining from his face. Frank's movements where like lightning as he reached out and grabbed the mans throat, his grip deadly and immediately cutting his airflow off. 

He could see his worthless life flash before his eyes as Frank's burning gaze looked right through him, holding no mercy. He choked and gasped for breath and Frank, still running on adrenaline, threw his body like a rag doll, watching as it hit the wall with great force and his body fell limp.

Before anything else, he approached Charlie, his heart swelling. "Charlie," he called, but her eyes were shut. 

He removed her restraints and kept the knife in her leg, tying a tourniquet above the wound to stop any more blood from leaving her body. Gently and with the greatest of caution, he lifted her from the chair and lied her on one of the tables in the room. Ensuring she was comfortable and stable, Frank then moved over to the man who laid on the floor and grabbed him like a sack of potatoes, throwing him on one of the chairs and tying him up with the rope. 

Like a switch, he regained consciousness and his head darted up, looking frantically around the room, his face holding horror as he realized the situation he was in. Frank was seething, his entire being was radiating the blood thirst he had. 

"Frank!"

The Devil turned and opened the door to the room, welcoming his brothers with relief. "Where is Fury," he stated, the tone of voice he had sending horrible chills down their spines.

"Don't worry Frank," Drake said, a few of his brothers emerging, dragging Fury behind with them. "You deserve this kill more than any one of us."

Frank  grabbed Fury by the back of his shirt, literally dragging him into the room as he thrashed around. "Frank! Frank! Come on! Let go! No!" he screamed pathetically, trying to fight his grip but Frank, he knew, was stronger than him.

"You got a doctor with you?" Frank called, his voice stoic and emotionless as he threw Fury on the other chair and tied him with the leftover scraps of rope, beating on him when he struggled.

One of the forefathers, Michael, entered the room with a bag and went straight to Charlie. He nodded to Frank, the two recognizing each other. 

"Fuck! Let me go!" Fury screeched, Frank not hesitating to pick up one of the tools and slice his ear off.

The loudest scream erupted from him, blood pooled down the side of his face instantly and he began crying out pathetically. Frank was seeing red.

"Block her vision if she regains consciousness," Frank told Michael, the man only nodding as he continued to delicately work on her wounds.

"I got money! Weapons! It's all yours if you let me go!" her father begged, sweat pooling down his face as Fury continued to cry out. Frank pulled out another tool, this one looking like a wine opener but just the twisted metal. He moved over to the man and placed the sharp end against his shoulder. He looked up at him with begging eyes. "Please, don't! No!" Not listening to a single word that came out of his mouth, Frank turned the metal into his shoulder, the slow screwing motions causing him to yell out in pain. 

He screwed the metal straight through his shoulder, screwing it into the wood back of the chair, locking him in place. 

"What's the matter?" Frank asked menacingly, lowering his head to speak in his ear. "You're gonna die here today, by the Devils hand." He was panting, breathing heavy and hard, his voice quivering. "Did you think you could get away with this little game?" he continued to ask, tearing them both down mentally and driving them to the point of insanity as they continued to beg for their lives. "I don't care what you did to me," he continued slowly, pulling out another tool and grabbing him by the back of the head, ripping his head back. "But...you shoulda never touched her."

However, before he could continue his torment, Michael stopped him.

"You'll have to continue this later boy," he told him. "We need to get her to a hospital, now."

Frank's adrenaline rush suddenly crashed as he looked over at Charlie, her chest barely moving as she barely breathed, her eyes shut tight, her body covered in cuts and blood.

"What hospital?" he asked him quickly, throwing the tool aside.

"We're gonna load her in the car, you follow," Michael said. "Carry her, gently. She's in critical condition."

Frank grabbed her like she was the most fragile thing in the world, and gently held her. He followed after Michael , his crew waiting outside and their eyes in horror at the state of her.

"Take those two fucks back to the clubhouse," Frank told them. "Beat them to fucking hell, leave the finality to me."

They nodded and watched as he continued to carry his world in his arms. 

But his world was dying.

Wow I'm actually crying.

Emotional chapters coming up next, be prepared :'(

I will continue to update a lot tomorrow!

I am moving this weekend so I will try my best not to leave off with cliffhangers tomorrow.

Please continue to vote and comment, it helps me out so much! I appreciate you all!

With care,
D. M. Brightwell