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Death Chick 666 - Chapter 3

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“This is the end of the line, Trevor.” “Seriously? Here?” Trevor said as he spread his arms and spun around in the parking lot of the Marathon gas station. “What’s wrong with here?” “Other than it’s the type of place where the weird gas station attendant tells you not to go camping by the lake because the last people that did that disappeared never to be found again?” “You really think so?” “You don’t?” DC smiled, “Of course I do. I didn’t think you were that perceptive. In fact, I’m going to go inside and get warned off.” “Are you serious?” “Yeah, why else would I be here? It’s not like this thing runs on gas.” Trevor took a second to think about what it did run on and then asked, “Are you going to kill somebody?” “Yeah, but not right now. It’s why you should stay here and see if you could hitch a ride or something.” “Stay here?” “Yeah, think about it. You need to get somewhere the Ledoux’s don’t have people.” “I’ll give you that but why can’t I stay with you a bit longer? I’m not th
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  The girl set the decapitated head on the table. The mouth moved but it takes more than a mouth to form words and he was missing everything from the neck down. She turned the head so it could gaze on the man sitting on the other side. The bluesman adjust his fedora and leaned close to the severed head. “What did he call himself?” “I don’t know, Powertool Paul or something equally stupid.” The severed head mouthed a silent protest. He felt Powertool Paul was an awesome name. “You said one for one. I brought you one.” “You did,” the bluesman said as he reached into the pocket of his sharkskin suit. He pulled out a single sheet of paper folded in quarters. He slid it across the table to her. She opened it and found written in black ink was a time and a place. “Which one?” she asked. “The collectors, Manny and Tommy.” She nodded. “Remember it’s one for one.” “Are you saying I can’t kill them both?” “Not if you want to keep having my help.” “Which one?” “That’s up to you.” 6 66 “Dude, that
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  Dylan was so busy fucking Stacy he didn’t hear the power drill come to life behind him. He was thinking how he was going to finish on her tits like he saw in the porn he watched earlier in the day when the spinning bit drove through the back of his head until the brain and blood-covered tip pushed through his right eyeball. Stacy assumed the wet hot sticky fluid splashing over her naked body was a different body fluid. She opened her eyes and saw the spinning drill bit reverse itself back out of Dylan’s eye.  Powertool Paul tossed the dead teenager aside and stepped into view giving Stacy an eyeful of his seven-foot frame. His face was covered in a welders mask and the sleeves were cut off of his blood-stained flannel shirt so his thick arms covered with the scars were visible. While it just appeared in the low light to be random cuts a closer look showed he had carved a series of ancient runes and symbols into the flesh.  He revved the drill in his left hand and then did the same wi