Wedding Day Massacre

Jinx was just returning after conducting a thorough search that included the rest of the hotel and parking lot. During his absence, Sebastian had continued entertaining his guests as best he could.

The jester came through the doors with the barrel of the AK square against the neck of the hotel manager who looked about ready to shit a brick. A few other new faces surrounded him. The foursome of weeping maids and Perry Jackson, the wide-eyed maintenance man, rounded out the rest of the pack.

Perry had just come in to fix a few light fixtures and wax the floors in the conference rooms. It was supposed to be his day off. He was supposed to be lazing about the house but ownership wanted him to wrap up a few more things in preparation for the Biltmore’s grand reopening.

Picked the wrong fuckin’ day to clock some OT, he thought as they continued forward. Suddenly being thrust into such an absurd conundrum almost didn’t surprise him anymore. As far back as he could remember, he’d always had shit luck.

“Few stragglers, huh? Please, come on in and join the party.” Sebastian turned back to the crowd as Jinx secured the door again.

Sweet Jesus, what the hell happened in here?! Perry’s brain wondered hysterically as he took notice of the violence and bloodshed that was sprinkled about the massive room. He was in no position to do anything drastic, but upon assessing the situation, he got an immediate guttural hunch that his best approach would be to blend in.

As Jinx trotted off back toward the stage and Sebastian remained focused on the crowd, Perry did his best to camouflage in with the actual guests. While the flock of shaken and sickened Biltmore employees remained standing frozen in place, he slyly slid into a chair at one of the tables beside him.

He felt the damp inner contents of the woman who’d been blown away by Jinx just a short time earlier assimilate into his rear. The janitorial outfit stuck out like a sore thumb, but being seated kept him somewhat detached from the other staff.

“So, most of you have just finished up your meals, what’s the verdict on the scampi and baked cod? Did catering pass the test?”

No one responded.

“C’mon, don’t be afraid, I’m not just gonna freak out!” Sebastian shook his head about like a rock star releasing a weird giggle. It was clear his reality was merging with his madness. His behavior was out of control but his audience could do nothing but hang on his every word.

“Do we have any vegetarians here today? Sorry, you know, I literally just realized we didn’t have a vegetarian option on the menu… can you sense my sarcasm?”

A grave sincerity suddenly took hold of him. “Well, if you can’t, allow me to lay it out for you. I don’t give a good fuck if you’re one of those assholes that’s been flaunting your ‘I love my farmer’ bumper sticker in my face in traffic every day, or if you’ve been eating off the dollar menu for a decade. That’s because today you’re gonna be consuming a meal that’s… well, unimaginable really. But that’s the great thing about what we’re doing here today. There are no limits.”

Cindy sat nervously beside Paula, her foot rocking up and down incessantly as Sebastian moved closer to their table. His eyes grazed over them gradually in a perverted manner. They could only hope that he wouldn’t mention them in a room with so many other options.

“So, I hope all of you left some extra room today because your life may very well depend on it.” He turned back to his shaken wife, Taylor, who was still standing confounded in the same spot that she was before he’d killed most of the children.

“Honey, can you please go clear off the long table? The one with the gifts? You can just put them on the stage with the others and, oh, put a couple of chairs there too please.”

Taylor did as her nut-bag husband instructed, while he did exactly what her friends had feared most: spoke to them.

“Taylor! Taylor! I want a gift! Pleaaaaaassssseee!” Christopher looked back at his father. “I want the gift even more than the ice cream, Papa! Please, just one and I promise to be the best boy!” he screamed.

Anthony had done an almost miraculous job of keeping his special needs son muzzled throughout Sebastian’s ramblings but the boy was overflowing with energy. It wasn’t often that Christopher had to be on his best behavior, but if there was any day to keep a low profile, it was that day.

Anthony was constantly whispering promises of froyo into his son’s ear to keep him as distracted from the melee as possible. Froyo was his favorite thing in the world and Anthony often used the concept of the delicious dessert almost like you would a treat to a dog.

“You could get both today, the caramel and the chocolate sauce, whip cream, sprinkles, and even gummies too. But you have to stay quiet for me, we can go every day this month, okay?” he whispered into Christopher’s humungous ear.

Up to that point, it had been working just fine, dangling the thought of receiving his favorite treat each day had really hit home until he saw the gifts. Christopher loved destroying paper (or anything really) and revealing what was beneath. Just the thought of finding out the contents excited him.

Anthony again tried to hush his boy as best he could but he’d attracted his psychotic son-in-law’s attention. Sebastian shifted a glare over at them as Jinx walked toward their table, gently clenching the AK. Christopher looked up at the wrinkled mask with the forced smile impressed upon it,

“Do you wanna play cards with me? We could play Go Fish! Or War! Or… even Old Maid!” he asked sincerely.

“Dad… I’ve only got one of you left now,” Sebastian explained, pointing back to his birth father’s splattered remains, “but if you don’t simmer the fuckin’ sped down, it’ll get a lot worse than me just becoming fatherless, understand?”

Anthony gritted his teeth and clasped his hand over his son’s mouth. A ball of stress formed around his tight sternum; the rage prodded him to consider whipping out the gun and putting a hot one right between his eyes but the fantasy was just that.

He had the means but was clearly outnumbered. He knew any rash action could still potentially spell doom for everyone. What if he missed? How would the murderous jester respond? Would the bomb still somehow go off? There were too many variables to make a move out of pure emotion.

He’d been calculating it the entire time. There were a couple of moments they’d had their backs turned to him already, but the uncertainty of the situation still hadn’t given him any confidence. He couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t end up killing everyone if he took a shot at playing the hero. If or when he did make a move, it had to be at the perfect moment. If it wasn’t precise and premeditated, that would be the end without question.

“Very good,” Sebastian said, appearing satisfied with the sight of the muted boy fidgeting in his father’s arms. He turned his attention back to the girls at the table, their trembles resembled a pair of junkies going through crank withdrawals.

“Cindy, gosh, it’s good to see you here. I heard you were a little under the weather today but I’m glad you toughed it out. I’m sure you’ll be happy you did by the end of it. By the way, who did you come to the wedding with?” Sebastian held the microphone to her lips and awaited a response. She looked over to Paula whose eyes screamed DON’T YOU DARE FUCKING SAY IT!

“I… I… came with Paula!” she finally confessed, pointing her finger across the table.

“You bitch!” Paula screamed, unhappy with her failure to omit her from the conversation.

“You’re the one that dragged me here today! It’s your fault we’re in this mess!” Cindy’s vindictive perspective was now so rigid that it had been crystalized. The rest of the way they were joined at the hip; in the shit together. Whether Paula liked it or not.

“Ladies, ladies, whoa. Please, there’s no need to get so upset. The fact that you are such great friends that two of my lovely wife’s bridesmaids would take each other to a wedding… while maybe to everyone else it’s a little strange but, to me, that’s perfect really. Because now, Cindy, I’m going to give you a chance to save your good friend’s life. Why don’t the two of you walk up to the table over there where my sweetheart is?”

“Please, Sebastian…” Cindy begged.

“It would serve you best to do exactly as I say. I can get a little aggravated when I repeat myself.”

They both walked over to Taylor without a fight, knowing persistence wouldn’t do them any favors. There was no way to reason with a madman.

Next, he looked over to the hotel and wedding staff that were huddled in the corner of the room like a pack of terrified chickens.

“Again, I just want to thank this unbelievable staff for doing such a phenomenal job today.” He put the remote into his jacket so he could clap his hands, “Really, let’s all give it up for them.”

Most of the guests were out of it. They sat crying silently or too fear-stricken for enthusiasm.

“Fucking clap! BEFORE I CUT SOMEONE’S GODDAMN HEAD OFF!” Sebastian yelled, feeling they weren’t recognizing the team enough.

The bizarre applause became thunderous, there was even a couple of whistles in there as he began to motion to the group.

“I’m gonna need all of you to join us up at the table too, please,” Sebastian explained to the group.

No one seemed to be ready to follow instructions, the group was so gravely disturbed that they all sort of looked at each other instead of following the request.

“Are you deaf? Everyone standing, get your asses up here now before I really get upset…” he grumbled.

While the thirty or so staff reluctantly trudged behind Sebastian, Perry remained seated, hoping that the other random guests he was seated around kept their mouths shut. He doubted anyone would want to communicate with the madman on the microphone, but to his experience, there was always one asshole.

The group remained silent to his relief while the staff made their way back to the side of the stage area where the long table sat.

Sebastian pointed to a seat at the right side of the table, “Cindy, you can have a seat here,” the tone of his voice indicated that he was still thinking while scanning through the horde of help.

His vision settled on a petite waitress that was shaking wildly and whose mascara was racing down her face.

“Jesus, you look like a raccoon right now, tell us your name, please?” he asked, nearly touching her lips with the microphone.

“J—Jasmine,” the girl said like she was now on autopilot. She was gripped by a tremendous dread and did exactly as she was told.

“Well, it appears that you’re gonna be the representative for the staff. Go ahead and take a seat right here beside Cindy,” he said, patting the table.

Jinx approached Sebastian with a small circular wrapped package and offered it to him. “Really? You got this for me, buddy? Wow, you shouldn’t have.” Jinx mimed actions, prodding him to open it.

As Sebastian quickly finishing tearing through it, Jinx set another much larger rectangular box at his feet. The rest of the heart-peppered paper fell to the floor and Sebastian looked a little confused by the massive length of orange extension cord that he was suddenly holding.

“I’m not sure I understand…” he mumbled.

Jinx now motioned toward the bigger box that sat under him. The overly acted confused grimaces morphed into a mischievous smirk. It was clear they knew where they were going with this but did their best to put on a show for the group.

The loftier oblong container, to the horror of those seated (and even more so to the ones who were standing), revealed a brand-new 18-inch electric chainsaw. Jinx took one end of the extension cord and plugged it into the socket.

“Wonderful…” Sebastian whispered to himself.

“Honey? Can you go fetch me a couple of those dead kids, please?”

Jinx finished removing all of the wrapping and activating the saw for use as Sebastian’s command echoed throughout the tall ceiling of the ballroom. Sebastian clipped the microphone to the stand in front of him and retrieved the detonator from his pocket. He handed it over to Jinx and took hold of his first gift.

“What? What do you mean?” Taylor asked.

She knew damn well what he meant. She didn’t want to touch the dead but was quickly motivated to complete the task. It only took Sebastian choking down on the handle of the chainsaw for a few pulls. When the cycling meat-ripper began to make its way toward her, the decision became instinctual. Being grossed out made more sense than becoming the gross out.

She didn’t take much thought in her selection, she just grabbed hold of the two bodies that were closest to her. She found the wrists of two young boys and pinned them together, wrapping both of her hands around them. The pair seemed to be in the age range of seven to ten years old, they barely understood what life was about and it had already been taken from them.

The first one looked like he was of Italian descent and had a large piece of metal (presumably from the device that had been hidden under the table) driven into his forehead. It was causing his still warm flesh to leave behind a wide blood trail on the floor as she hauled them closer to the stage. She’d kicked off her shoes just prior but the footing was not ideal.

Taylor tried not to look at them but couldn’t help it. She suddenly realized that she was dragging the lifeless shell of her younger cousin, Michael, and the still twitching boy of his next-door neighbor and best friend, Joshua.

She had babysat the pair of them a handful of times back in her teenage years. While they’d always found a way to get on her nerves, each time she always admired their relationship. The two held an unbreakable bond in life that, in a gloomy irony, had now transferred over in death.

Joshua was the only black student in the school district and hadn’t made friends easily. Michael had never seen a difference between them and always had his friend’s back. For their age, they were surprisingly intellectual or at least they had been…

Joshua’s left leg was mutilated from the thigh down. A clutter of violence glistened upon him that didn’t remotely resemble a limb. It dangled, barely attached but somehow still holding by a string of rubbery skin. The boy’s vivid and ghastly post-mortem state forced Taylor’s body into a moment of unintentional hesitation.

She began to throw up a disgusting mixture of still-bubbly champagne and undigested fish. She had aimed for the floor but much of it inadvertently landed all over young Joshua’s dead face. It was still dripping out of her mouth and nose when Sebastian began to chastise her.

“We don’t have all fucking day here! If that’s making you sick, then I’m not really sure how you’re gonna make it through the rest of this.”

Taylor straightened up, finding a way to power through her emotions and dragged both of the dead children through the puddle of her vomit before setting the corpses at the feet of her husband.

“Thank you, my darling,” he said, revving the chainsaw toward her again. She tried to step away from his madness as Sebastian’s playful swipe of the rotating blade only missed her ear by a few inches. His action bullied Taylor backwards, causing her to stumble and fall on her ass.

Anthony again gritted his teeth watching from his table. The lunatic was toying with his little girl and it took everything for him not to pull out the gun and start firing. But he knew the right moment hadn’t arrived yet. The demonic jester was still angled toward him. Jinx’s wicked midnight mass-manufactured eyes could have been looking at anyone in the room, but Anthony felt like they were staring a hole through him. So, he remained still, holding onto Christopher as best he could.

Sebastian looked down at the two dead boys and then back over to Cindy, “Well, at least it’s already cooked for you. So, what’ll it be, white or dark meat?” he asked her in all seriousness.

Cindy mouthed responses unintentionally. There was no volume to anything she was trying to say, her speech was going through confused motions. She could only wonder what he had in mind for them next…

“No preference, I guess? It’s all the same to me too,” Sebastian agreed.

He shrugged his shoulders and slammed the spinning metal chain into Michael’s neck first. It tore through the adolescent tissue and spine in seconds and sparked against the floor. A flood of hot red showered outward, splattering the white shirt that laid under Sebastian’s tux. Some erupted with such force that the splatter arch reached the gorgeous gown of his bride who sat in horror just a few feet away. More cries and moans crept up in the peanut gallery but there was nothing they could do other than watch the carnage unfold.

He set the decapitated head on the table in front of Jasmine, forcing her to cover her eyes as the vacant baby stared back at her. He pulled the large hunk of wreckage that had killed him from the depths of his forehead and eye socket, then tossed it on the floor.

Sebastian examined the boy’s eye which was now dangling out of the socket but still intact. “Should be fine still,” he mumbled to himself.

He returned his gaze to Jasmine, “Don’t want you breaking a tooth now,” Sebastian remarked before turning his attention to the other body.

He sawed through Joshua’s throat with equal efficiency. Sebastian then lifted the second boy’s head off the puddles of bodily fluid, void of remorse and conscience. He balanced the second skull to stare at Cindy, by now the pure embodiment of a hysterical mess. Sebastian set the gnarly gore-drenched saw onto the ground and retrieved a bucket from beneath the table.

“Paula, and all members of the fantastic Biltmore staff, please join me on the dancefloor,” Sebastian asked politely.

They all followed behind him in line like cows at the slaughterhouse. Sebastian continued toward the middle area of the floor, carrying the bucket at his side. Jinx trailed the group, keeping a close tail while the jester’s gloved thumb rubbed around in a circular pattern atop the detonator.

“Form a ring please, one nice big circle that you can all fit into,” Sebastian instructed, twirling his finger about.

As Paula began to integrate herself in with the staff, Sebastian grabbed hold of her arm firmly. “Wait,” he whispered.

Once they had all appeased Sebastian’s wishes, he reached into the bucket and grabbed hold of a cluster of silver handcuffs. He slipped the first pair onto Paula’s wrists and fastened them to a point of pinching discomfort.

“Get in the middle, bitch.”

She slid inside, penetrating the large circle, and stood directly in the center just as she was told. Sebastian nodded and slapped the next set onto the left forearm of the glossy-eyed girl who stood in front of him. While she wasn’t happy with her new accessory, she wasn’t prepared to argue. Sebastian stretched the unlocked cuff to the large burly gentleman beside her. The cook, still wearing his ridiculous chef hat for some reason, discordantly jerked his arm away from him.

“You’re not putting that fucking thing on me! I’m not playing this sick game anymore.”

“Very well.”

Before Sebastian finished snapping his fingers, the chef’s silly hat had flown away, along with the top of his head. Splintered bone and brains splashed over the woman beside him, getting in her mouth and covering most of her face.

“Don’t anyone move a fucking inch! Is it really too much to ask? Just follow my simple instructions or else!” Sebastian yelled.

Many in the group jumped but, ultimately, they still stood their ground. They knew that any false move could potentially be their last. She wiped the man’s warm interior off of her nose and out of her eyes and hair as best she could. Jinx kept the still smoking AK fixed on the circle of staff. The jester’s red gloved finger now sat resting on the trigger.

“So, let me just ask now since we have assholes that want to impede on what’s inevitably going to happen here anyway, is there anyone else who doesn’t want to play? Anyone?! Speak now, or forever hold your peace!”

You could’ve heard a pin drop as he fastened the rest of the cuffs until the entire staff had become one; strung together by the resilient metallic linkage. The cook’s rude delay prompted him to secure the remainder of the restraints even tighter than Paula’s. Most of their hands had already transitioned to a purple or blue shade.

“Alright, I think we’re ready to get started now.”

Sebastian approached the microphone near the table again, then turned back to look at the duo of depressed guests. As he did, Jinx approached him with a small clip microphone and pinned it to the top of his tux.

“Hello, hello? Can you guys still hear me?” he asked, stepping away from the standing mic that Jinx had set off to the side. “Check one, check one, am I good to go?”

Jinx nodded the evil mask and gave a double thumbs up. The jester’s facial covering didn’t allow for any of the creepy figure’s inner emotions to be revealed, but the sinister entertainer’s body language seemed quite joyful.

“Sorry, the sound can be a little tricky sometimes. Okay, I’m sure you’re wondering what this is all about. This is quite the extravagant setup we have, now what could we possibly be doing here? I know you were all probably a little bored watching us scramble around and get our shit together, but trust me, the wait, the setup… it’s all gonna be worth it.”

Taylor stared at her little cousin’s destroyed head sitting atop the table still waiting to wake up. It was all a blurry dream—a horrible, cruel, and unusual nightmare. It had to be. What was unfolding before her couldn’t possibly be how her life was set to play out. She had so many other ideas and selfish goals.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m a sucker for tradition. And while I do strongly respect age-old customs, I think it’s also important to build our own. Times change, right? So, I wanted to do something that’s a little more relevant. Something that is going to take some fucking nuts to repeat. That’s what today’s about. Today, we craft a blueprint for the future.”

Sebastian raised his hands high above his head, “Today, we partake in some groundbreaking and innovative behaviors that will undoubtedly be mimicked at some point in the future. What we’ll be involved in is a massacre, but on a granular level, when you break it all down, it’s far worse. They’ll probably need to create a new term for it, really.”

“I’m not sure about you, but when I think of the word massacre, I think of a profound number of casualties. BODIES EVERYWHERE. Let the bodies hit the floor! Let the bodies hit the floor!”

Sebastian looked over to Jinx as they both threw up the devil horns and the jester began to headbang.

“Remember that song? Lead singer actually died of a heart attack, would you believe that? No? Well, you can believe this, 99.9% of you will be wishing you could’ve gotten off that easy when your turn comes around.” A perverse smile scurried across his face.

“You see, in a normal massacre, the deaths are usually quick, be it by a bomb’s blast or rapid gunfire. The goal of any mass murderer typically is to take out as many people as he or she can, and to do so as quickly as fucking possible. It’s all about the numbers usually…” Sebastian’s left hand fidgeted about at his side before he began to spasm and rapidly tap his leg.

“See that method just… it leaves the artist so restricted, handcuffed really… no pun intended. There’s no time to enjoy nor admire the work you’re doing. It’s literally about fifteen or twenty minutes of pure gory orgasm before you’re inevitably captured or forced to suicide. Something about it has just always felt all wrong to me.” His furrowed brow showed this wasn’t just part of the show, it was something he’d thought about for quite some time.

“So, I asked myself, what other options do I have? I could become that classic, closeted serial killer. The one that picks people off one or two at a time over the course of a few decades and maybe, just maybe, if I’m extraordinarily prepared, careful, and a little lucky too, I can avoid detection. Again, something about that just doesn’t seem right or fair. More so especially these days. We live in a very instant society. This approach might have worked years ago but now we’re conditioned. We want everything now; we need everything now. Plus, who wants to look over their shoulder every day and worry about being caught each morning they wake up? Not me. Am I right?”

The entire crowd remained dumbfounded. The questions were all rhetorical but they couldn’t have answered them even if they wanted to.

“So, to me, the puzzle became how could I have both right now? The artistic freedom and intimacy that accompanies a well-plotted single slaying and the sheer numbers that are a given when committing a mass murder. The answer is actually much simpler than you’d think. It just takes an extra touch of patience, which most people in my position don’t tend to come equipped with.”

“How is it possible, you ask? Easy, find a large group of unsuspecting people who trust you, and show everyone that you’re in complete control. What better event to use as a mirage than one which everyone attending believes to be the next step in life, but ironically, it’s the grim end of it.”

Sebastian reached beside him and pet the head of dead Michael, “Now that I’m able to take my time with each of you, this will not simply be some silly mass extermination, no, not by a long shot. Today, we set the trend. When all is said and done, this wedding day massacre will do for marriage what Columbine did for education. I hope you’re all as excited as I am.” Sebastian exhaled deeply and steadied his shoulders proudly as he turned his attention back to the girls.

“Now, obviously, as I stated earlier, the two of you will be competing to save your friends, at least for now… and also to advance forward and not be exposed to an agonizing punishment…”

Jinx grabbed the chainsaw and revved it up again. The jester seemed just as excited as Sebastian to be there.

“All you have to do is be the first person to eat the eyeballs and tongue out of the dead child’s head in front of you.”

The faces of the “competitors” were stained with their own vile interpretations of how the gruesome chore would feel. A horrible feeling of dread and impending doom moved into their bodies.

“And remember, if you don’t want to play, that’s fine, you can join our friend here.”

Sebastian walked back over and kicked the crumpled corpse of the hero cook numerous times. He psychotically beat on the motionless body over and over. Finally stepping on the mashed brains disrespectfully for good measure.

The tension was building, the girls had no idea exactly how they were going to react once it started. Sebastian didn’t give them much time to dwell on the notion or think it over.

“Okay… ready… on your mark… get set… GO!” Sebastian hollered out.

Jinx held down on the chainsaw to signal it was time for the race to begin. The clownish figure danced about like a child at the playground.

Cindy and Jasmine both looked at each other for a moment, still dazed by the concept of what they knew they needed to do. Suddenly, a simultaneous shift occurred and they both began to attack each of their respective skulls like animals.

It would have been quite easy to misjudge their character. Prior to the start, they both appeared repulsed and unwilling. But once Sebastian blew the preverbal whistle and their lives (as well as many others) were on the line, they tore into the raw flesh like it was chicken pot pie.

The still rickety waitress pressed her pointed nails into the corner of Michael’s left eye socket and hooked onto the orb with ease. She tore it free after a few stiff tugs, but to her surprise, it came out relatively easily. She placed it on the table trying to hold off on the most difficult task until she’d removed the other parts that were required.

Cindy took the opposite approach, balancing the head upside down and thrusting downward with her elbow onto Joshua’s jaw. The lofty pressure she exerted caused the jaw to snap back rapidly. With the mouth unhinged, she went in, giving Joshua his first and last disgusting French kiss.

She closed her top and bottom teeth toward the base of the uncharacteristically, stationary muscle and bit down as hard as she could. Gagging on the wet and gamey chunk, she could feel her teeth penetrating it, but when she tried to pull away with the muscle, she was denied.

She looked over at Jasmine who had just finished removing Michael’s second eyeball and knew she needed to be quicker. She started to grind her teeth from side to side vigorously, scraping into the rubbery flesh without remorse against her enamel until it finally broke free.

Suppressing her uprising of dry heaves and controlling her hysterics, she collected as much spit as she could in her mouth. Once the tongue was essentially floating in her saliva, she took one quick massive swallow and was able to wash it down successfully. If it was an adult tongue, she probably would have choked on it, but she was fortunate that it still hadn’t fully developed.

“Wow, and I thought Jinx was usually the quiet one! But that’s what I call biting your tongue!” Sebastian yelled, truly relishing in the rivalry.

The onlookers remained sickened and unmoved by Sebastian’s crass words. Those who stood in the circle released a burst of throat-ripping screams of encouragement. Their words made little difference, yet still they wailed. It might have been a morbid premonition but they already sounded dead.

Cindy checked back in on her competition; the poor woman was breaking down. She had the dead boy’s eyes out but was struggling tremendously with the tongue. She was trying a similar tactic but wasn’t strong enough to break his jaw. She picked up the head and started slamming the chin into the lip of the stage behind her.

Cindy didn’t take time to pity her, laying the back of the head on the table and violently plunging her index fingers into each socket of the dead child’s gushing face. Once she got herself a firm grip, she held tight and placed the skull on the floor.

She then set her heel down on the face and pulled up, ripping the first already dislodged eyeball free with ease. She set the peeper on the table and went right back to business tugging at the second one. She was able to get it loose with record timing. The sadistic surge of spontaneous savagery must have been lurking inside her but she had no time to reflect on her shocking success.

At first, Cindy utilized the same saliva-soaking method she’d used on Joshua’s tongue to try and get them both down, but they were too bulky. Maybe going for the double was a mistake. She knew she was going to have to chew to make it happen.

She carefully used her tongue to roll each of the orbs between her upper and lower molars and took a deep breath. She readied herself and closed her eyes tight before her teeth started to crush down.

The normally unseen mortal juices launched out through her open mouth like her jaws had just mashed down on a cherry tomato. The disgusting filmy sauce sprayed over Joshua’s motionless chin as Cindy gagged, trying to keep from throwing up. The fibrous tunic was rubbery; like a chunk of fatty chicken that the chef forgot to trim. With a more focused effort, she was at last able to power through and flatten out the marbleized mouthful.

A surge of hot vomit sprang up and she reached deep, achieving a meditative focus to avoid pitching the contents of her mouth and gut. Cindy pooled the regurgitation, her saliva, and Joshua’s juices. With her jaw rattling manically, she finally swallowed.

The eyes felt even stranger than the tongue going down, she distinctly sensed the gory tip of the nerve ending tickle her esophagus as the staff begged and pleaded with her not to finish. But little did they know, she had officially sealed their fate.

Unfortunately for them, their representative still sat stress-filled and struggling. Jasmine continued thrashing Michael’s head robotically in a daze of chaos. She was unaware that the event had already concluded.

Sebastian approached Cindy with a big grin that ran ear to ear, “Open your mouth, please.”

She obeyed his wishes and he used his bloodstained fingers to poke around and inspect the cavity which he found to be clear.

“Okay, that’s it then. The first event has now concluded!” he yelled.

Sebastian looked over to Jinx who stood solemnly and nodded. The demonic jester took hold of the already gore-clad saw and set the wet chain to cycle. The other guests looked on in horror as he began to run through the screaming circle of handcuffed help almost instantaneously.

Meat ripped, blood poured, and limbs detached with ease. They fought and jumped, trying to avoid the saw blades but it was inevitable. Jinx started at their kneecaps, taking a few stiff kicks en route to coming full-circle. With every other strike the frightened staff pointlessly threw, a limb was unmade until there was no longer a usable defense mechanism left to protect themselves with. Eventually, they would each slump down onto the ground, just like the one before them—legless and screaming.

After the first round, there was so much crimson flowing on the wooden floor that it was closer to a swimming pool than a puddle. It had become so ridiculous that it was stretching out from the dance arena and beginning to brown the rugs at the trembling feet of the seated guests in the dining area.

Many of the maimed were falling into the grips of shock and staring mindlessly up at the twinkling chandelier while their extremities shuddered from the fresh separation. It looked like enough legs had been harvested to build a human centipede.

The rest let uncontrollable wails of agony echo as they writhed atop the collective pile of human stilts. Paula stood in the center of the jumble of humanity, curtailing the emotional outbursts grinding inside her. She remained head down watching the wetness swirl around her soaked heels and splattering her entire body. Her new bloody and devilish form still avoided making the slightest eye contact with the murderous character before her.

“Finish it up,” Sebastian barked, seemingly over the initial grand slaughter already. Jinx nodded the saturated, wrinkly mask toward Sebastian and went for their heads next.

Those that were still coherent put their hands up (and inadvertently the hands of their neighbor due to the handcuffs) to no avail. It only led to more violent mathematics. The division was inescapable, but the number they chose was up to them. Many had lost the fight when they lost their legs. They just let the saw make its way straight to their throat or face in hopes of attaining the quickest ending.

The majority of their skulls were not completely detached. Many dangled chunks or were just void of the essential life-filling that any non-desensitized mortal would feel nauseated in seeing absent. What was moments ago a circle of life was now a ring of death. The torn-up tissue that surrounded Paula pumped out its insides and twitched, still mostly bonded together. As the slaughter crawled closer toward her, she wished she could somehow crawl inside herself.

Jinx set the saw down on the floor, miming energy depletion with a Charlie Chaplin-esque charm. The jester’s buffoonery couldn’t have been less comical; there were no lengths that could garner a smile with the tier of anarchy that surrounded them. There was no way to pull a chuckle out from the hell that Jinx and Sebastian had manufactured.

“Now, this is starting to look like a goddamn massacre if you ask me! But I think we still have one more to go…” Sebastian said, turning his head back toward Jasmine.

The waitress had backed herself into the corner beside the stage. A restrictive paralysis had come over her as she watched him walk over to Jinx and take hold of the DNA-drenched slaughter device.

“You let them down,” Sebastian said, pointing back to the heaping disaster comprised of her fellow carved-up associates.

Jasmine started to lose control of her bowels, her black pants moistened, and a warm yellow puddle formed as Sebastian started to close in on her.

“Darling, are you really fucking pissing all over yourself? If you’re pissing all over the floor at my wedding, then you’re pissing all over me! You filthy swine, you disgusting trough troll!”

He lunged toward her with the saw spinning but something inside her switched; somehow, she’d regained her motor abilities. But for every fortunate happening, there are ten misfortunes—the balance was unavoidable on that day or the following.

As Jasmine side-stepped the buzzing metal, her curly ponytail was not able to evade getting snarled in the revolutions. It was only a moment before the rotations caused the back of her scalp to be pulled into the nefarious device. It sliced into her, deeply shredding the bone and causing her brain matter to fling about and pepper Sebastian’s perfectly-pressed tux.

He pressed it deep into her, watched her eyes begin to roll around before her flailing arms found rest. He removed his finger from the trigger and Jasmine dropped down onto her hands and knees. The ruined girl looked like a stillborn fetus wiggling about directionless. Sebastian walked back over to the buttery slick of dehydrated urine that she’d left behind and pointed downward.

“You know, in Indonesia, the bride and groom are both expected to go three days without using the bathroom? Sounds a bit extreme, but in that culture, it’s supposed to symbolize the strengthening of the newlywed’s bond. And look at you, you can’t even go a few hours. Your relief is incredibly selfish…”

Jasmine remained shaking without control on the ground, still overwhelmed by the vile acts inflicted upon her.

“You hear me, you cunt? You see the fucking mess you made at my wedding!? Well, now you’re gonna clean it up, come and clean it up NOW and maybe, just maybe I won’t cut you again.”

Somehow, Jasmine was still computing what he was saying despite her severe head trauma. In a more than miraculous display of effort, she clawed her way sluggishly over to the puddle of piss. The onlookers grimaced as she dragged herself forward pathetically. As she inched forward with each claw-like motion, some of her fingernails began to snap off and start bleeding in the process.

“Faster, go faster, cunt!” he commanded until she had finally pulled herself back into her warm secretion.

She slid the arm of her shirt into the puddle while blood rained down, mixing into the yellow pool. She looked like a malfunctioning maid stuck in fetish mode. Her incredible determination was valiant but nothing could be enough to satisfy Sebastian.

“No! Put it back where it came from! I can’t have you walking around my wedding guests smelling like a damn hooker, can I?! I know my wife wouldn’t approve of that…” Sebastian looked up at Taylor as he instructed Jasmine while kicking her arm away viciously.

“Slurp it up, c’mon, bitch, you look like you’ve been around the block a few times. I’m sure this ain’t the first golden shower you’ve been involved with.” He winked at the mass of horrified onlookers while she continued to bleed and began sucking up the now orangey liquid.

She was able to ingest a surprising quantity. It was more than Sebastian would have believed to have been possible in her state. For the first time that evening, Sebastian was legitimately impressed. While what Cindy displayed during the cannibalism contest was quite unexpected, she hadn’t had a saw scramble her brains just before the whistle.

“That’s a good girl. A very, VERY good girl. Alright, you’ve shown that you can follow my directions and, as promised, I won’t cut you again.”

Sebastian raised his foot up and drove his heel into the area of split skull in the back of her head. Her teeth shattered, crushing against the slick floor and her brains erupted upward like wet carnal fireworks. The ever-present muddled gasps of those stomaching the humiliating and horrifying spectacle peaked.

The slurping stopped. The squirming stopped. Any semblance of movement stopped, as a definite stillness took hold of her. Those watching felt disgust, terror, hate, but most tellingly, envy. She had what they all wanted.

Jasmine was able to “get it over with.” Jasmine was dead. As for the rest of them, they would have to wait their turn.