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ELEVEN

SNOWMAN

I wished for a clock that could turn back time. I wished for someone to pull me out of the present and take me back to the past. Back to when she wasn't broken, back to a time before her pain began. I wished I could erase every scar printed onto her body and soul, leaving nothing but her—whole and untouched.

Regret is the heaviest burden a man will ever carry, a shadow that lengthens with each passing day until all that's left is taken. And with regrets, sorrow, a trickle turning into a flood till everything's drowned and none is left but darkness.

But I wouldn't live with regret. I couldn't. I didn't have a clock to turn back the time, nor someone to carry me into the past. All I had was what I knew best: an axe, a knife, and a gun.

I couldn't erase what had been done to her. I couldn't fix her fractured heart, her fragile soul. But I could make sure no one ever laid a hand on her again.

I zipped up the dark blue nylon suit and felt it cling to my body like a second skin. In my hand, I held the faceless plastic mask that had become my identity. It stared back at me, blank and cold. I stood in front of the mirror, but all that stared back was emptiness, just a hollow man with a hollow face.

On the counter beside me lay the local newspaper. The front page showed a picture of an Asian reporter standing outside my last victim's house, a microphone clutched tightly in her hand. The headline screamed in bold, black letters: "Snowman Hunts Again.". They pressed heavily upon my chest, so real. I had once hoped to save this town, to rid it of its corruption and decay. But evil within people cannot be cleansed, no more than a disease can be healed. You can hide it or remove the tumor, trying to drown it, but it will always resurface, wearing a new face. And I was tired. Tired of chasing shadows, tired of wearing this mask, tired of the cold that seeped in through my bones and turned me into what I was. An ice monster.

But I couldn't stop. Not now. Not when she was still hurting. Not when they were still out there. I knew where they hid, where they skulked in, the places they thought made them untouchable. I would find them. I would make them suffer for every bruise, every scar they left on her body and soul.

They thought they could take her away from me, hurt her, and simply walk away. But they were wrong. This wasn't about justice. This wasn't about the town or headlines or the mask.

This was about her. And they would pay for all of it.

The fog hung heavy over the woods, curling around the trees like ghostly fingers. Each step I made, had a reason behind it. And as the crunch in the snow beneath my feet had been muffled under that dense air, the axe swung low in my hand, chafing a thin cut across the snow.

Their laughter, ahead, cut like razor-sharp edges, so cruel and careless. Not loud enough to hide where they were. They lay by the river, in the very same spot where she was, mocking and joking about it, reliving a night they had gotten away with.

Something inside me clicked off. Like a distant switch that flipped and everything became cold, focused.

I moved closer, as quiet as the fog itself. Their voices sharpened, distinct now; Josh's lazy drawl; Vic's nervous titters, following on as he always did.

As soon as I was near enough for them to make me out through the haze, I swung the axe down into the snow, the sound cracked like a shot.

"Good evening, boys," I said. "Ready to die?"

Josh lay on his back, hands behind his head, and didn't even bother opening his eyes. "Yeah, man, whatever," he mumbled, his cocky smirk carved into his face.

But Vic wasn't quite that calm. He moved himself up into a seated position, his eyes wide as they darted between me and Josh. His voice cracked as he slapped his chest.

"It's… it's S-S-Snowman!" he shouted, scrambling to his feet. He tripped over his own boots, went face-first into the snow, but then clawed his way to his feet.

"Fuck," Josh cursed, finally snapping out of his trance. In an instant, he got upright, the laziness gone from his poise. He didn't glance back at Vic as he took off running toward the river.

"Well isn't this going to be amusing," I said out loud as I watched Vic try to stumble after him.

I raised the axe and was off, running with steady, sure steps as adrenaline coursed through me like wildfire. The icy water of the river splashed against my boots; I barely felt the cold. My heart pounded hard in my chest, matching the frantic rhythm of their footsteps crashing through the woods.

The fog thickened, curling around the darker part of the forest where the trees stood higher, their branches clawing for the sky. I followed the sounds of their movements, their panicked breathing, frantic steps.

Vic didn't get very far. He fell behind a tree, pressing himself against the ground like some sort of animal that was afraid. His tall body stuck out awkwardly, his feet poking out from the shadow of the tree. He thought he was hidden.

He wasn't. I circled silently, moving behind the same tree he cowered against. The fog wrapped itself around me, masking my presence until I was a single breath away. I hunched low and leaned close enough to him to hear his ragged, shallow breathing.

"Oh shiny, swingy axe," I softly sang, the words slipping from my mouth like a lullaby.

I swung the axe in the air, the blade whistling on and on before it bit into the bark of the tree just inches from his head.

"Went chopping through the woods," I went on, my voice low.

Vic screamed, his body trembling as he pressed himself harder against the tree.

"Down came the chips…" I pulled the axe free, letting it slice through the air again. This time, I buried it in the root of the tree just beside his foot. "…as the tiny dick bitch in front of me stood."

I laughed then, sharp and cutting, as his wide eyes, teary with unshed tears darted to the blade. It was a whole body stutter before he slumped forward, unconscious.

"Pff, coward," I grumbled.

I reached down, hoisting his limp body onto my back with a grunt. Compared to the satisfaction flooding me, his weight was close to nothing. The axe hung loosely in my other hand as I started to walk. The woods darkened the farther north I went, and the river's sound faded behind me. I had to move ahead, where my kill kit was buried.

I heard behind me the soft crunch of footsteps and dropped him roughly to the ground, turning toward the rock where Josh was hiding. A panicked uneven breathing was now giving him away. I inched forward, my movement slow, surrounded by the fog.

He saw me before I was close enough, turned, and ran, his feet pounding the snow.

I chased after him, the cold air burning my lungs. He was faster than I had expected, his panic giving him speed. But adrenaline coursed through me, sharpening my focus, I leaped, tackling him to the ground.

"What's up?" I said as I pinned him beneath me. His wide, terrified eyes met mine, and I couldn't resist. "You like my body on top of yours, you little slut ?"

His face went crimson, his lips trembling, and then I felt something warm and wet spreading beneath him.

"Seriously?" I muttered, rolling my eyes. Josh had pissed himself, and the wet stain on my suit was growing cold. "You couldn't hold it for five minutes?"

His only response was a desperate, guttural sound as I punched his face. The satisfying crack of impact silenced him, and his body went limp beneath me.

Scooping him up, I slung his unconscious body over my shoulder and carried him back to where Vic still lay stretched in the snow. My irritation grew as the cold wet spot from Josh's piss soaked through my suit, raising a shiver.

I dropped him beside Vic, both of them lifeless like a pile in the snow. I snatched up his shirt, yanking him out of it and quickly tearing it into strips. I used the fabric to bind their legs together, pulling it tight, making sure they couldn’t escape. Grabbing the loose end, I trudged forward through the snow, dragging their bodies behind me.

The sound of their weight sliding over the ground, scraping against branches and rocks, was like a pleasing melody to my ears.

Five minutes. That's what separated us from the spot where I hid the kill kit .

As groggy voices began to return, their screams mingled with the crunch of snow. They were clawing at branches, trying to break themselves, but it was pointless. Every scratch, every bruise—they would feel it all.

"My dad's the chief of police!" Josh yelled, desperation cracking his voice. "You'll rot in prison for this!"

I stopped abruptly, the shirt pulling tight in my hand. I turned more slowly, letting their bound legs fall to the ground.

Josh, motivated by the pause, tried again. "That's right," he spat, his voice rising. "You better untie us now!"

I crouched down, and with slow motions, I leaned forward and untied his legs. He stood up, then, brushing the snow away from his pants.

"Who's scared now, huh?" he sneered, his grin wide.

I said nothing. I merely kicked the snow aside with my boot, revealing a box buried beneath. His smile faded as I pulled it out and opened it.

"You," I growled.

His confidence shattered, and he struggled to his feet to run, but I was faster, slamming him back to the ground. Vic fainted again, his body going limp.

I pulled out an injection of epinephrine from the box. Adrenaline was the perfect fuel for pain. I rammed the needle into Josh's arm, his eyes jerking as his body twitched when the medicine hit.

"You will feel it all," I calmly said as I tied his hands behind him and strapped a rope tightly around his waist.

Throwing the rope over a thick branch, I pulled, hoisting his body just high enough that his toes barely brushed the ground. He struggled, twisting and turning, but the adrenaline coursing through his veins made his fear more visible to my eyes.

I turned to Vic, repeating the process, injecting him with the remaining dose. Immediately, his eyes snapped open, wild with terror, and I tied him up, leaving him on the ground for now.

"W-what are you going to do?" Vic stuttered, his voice shaking.

"I'm going to make you pay," I said, my tone icy, with no emotion. The white plastic mask reflected the faint light on my face, I was like a ghost, searching through my tools.

I pulled out a small hunting knife from the toolbox, its blade sharp and shiny. I just tuned Josh out as he came near, begging and promising me money and connections.

"Stop crying like a bitch," I told him, slicing his shirt down the middle and pulling it off.

"Let's start with an R," I muttered, laying the blade against his chest. He screamed as I cut into his skin, the letter welling with blood down his torso.

"A…," I went on, the knife digging deeper, "P… I… S… T."

His screams echoed through the trees. His chest heaved as I stepped back to admire my work. "Now," I said, my voice low, "let's take care of the rest."

I unbuttoned his trousers and couldn't help a smile as I saw his shriveled, pathetic attempt at masculinity.

"I have a better idea," I whispered, my voice little more than a murmur. I left him hanging in confusion and turned to Vic.

I leaned out, snatching the rope tied to his middle, my fingers clamping down on it and tugging him upright. His feet stutter-stepped as he struggled to find his balance while his eyes went large, frantically wide.

"You're going to take your fist," I said, "and shove it in his ass." I laid my palm on his shoulder, steadying him, feeling the fine trembling of his body.

"N-No," he stuttered, his voice breaking as he shrank back. Disgusted, his face screwed up, a deep furrow forming between his brows, and he shook his head violently, taking a few backward steps.

"I might let you go," I said with a very slow, taunting grin, "might."

He froze, his body rigid. The bark of the tree met his back, he was trapped, and I closed the gap between us. Without hesitation, I grabbed his wrist, yanking his hand toward me, and began unrolling his sleeve, exposing his bare skin up to the elbow. His pulse thudded beneath my fingers.

"No, please," he cried, his voice breaking, desperate. But I didn’t respond to his pleas—just as they had ignored hers.

I yanked him forward, dragging him toward Josh, the tension in the air thick with fear. Both of them screamed for help, their voices raw with panic, but the sound was swallowed by the dense trees around us, vanishing into the woods.

I pulled down his trousers, sliding them down his hips, his body stiff with resistance. His ass cheeks clenched together, his breathing rapid and shallow.

"You wouldn't," he whimpered, but there was no hesitation in my movements.

I couldn't bring myself to care anymore—not when they had never cared about her.

"Spit on it!" I barked.

Vic froze, his body stiff, a fear running down his spine, but I wasn't done. I leaned in closer, my gaze never leaving him, my words just a challenge. "It has to slide in."

He shook his head again, his face contorted in disbelief, refusing to give way. I drew my knife from its sheath, pressing its cold steel against the skin of his neck. The sharp edge bit into him just enough to send a shudder through his body.

"Do it," I ordered.

His willpower shattered like glass as he slowly, with his trembling hands, parted the cheeks of Josh's ass in ragged breaths.

"No, man, no!" Josh yelled but Vic didn't hesitate. His fingers stirred, trembling, desperate to obey.

I leaned in, a cold smirk curling on my lips. "Treat him like a slut," I said, my tone flat, "the way you did that girl before; give him the same treatment."

His face contorted in distaste as he moved, his actions driven by something he couldn't suppress. Josh's screams echoed through the night, his voice cracking with a mix of pain and fear. Then, together, they cried—two broken sounds that filled the air with desperation.

"How does it feel?" I asked coldly. "Do you feel like you are nothing?" I pressed the blade to his neck, digging the sharp metal into his skin just enough to remind him of my control. "Do you regret it now?"

Their bodies were shaking, caught in a rhythm of violence neither one wanted to be a part of. I watched them, the raw emotion in their eyes telling a story of helplessness.

But even as Vic struggled, Josh's body betrayed him, reacting in ways he could not hide. My anger flared like a fire in my chest. I stepped closer to him, my presence suffocating, every inch of me radiating rage.

"You think you are in control?" I raised my voice. "Pathetic."

Anger surged within me, more intense than ever before. I used to take my time, letting them suffer slowly, but with this, all I wanted was for them to pay—so I could rush back into her arms. I needed to be with her, at that very moment. To comfort her. To show her that not all men are the same.

My hand was firm, gripping the knife tightly as it stabbed into his flesh, slicing through his cock as coldly as if it were just a branch standing over him. The scream that tore from his throat echoed through the silence of the night, piercing and harsh, sending ripples through the forest. Far away, crows and owls, startled from their sleep, flew into the sky, their wings beating the air in a frantic escape from the chaos happening below them.

His severed cock fell to the ground, penetrating deep into the snow as blood ran down his inner thighs. Now, watching him trying to breathe, screaming, closing his eyes, I could tell he had paid and would not do it again, ever again.

I stepped back toward Vic, shoving his shaking body away as he sobbed, tears streaming down his face. My grip on him was heavy, and with one hard pull, I yanked him aside, pulling him before Josh. And when he finally saw the humiliation laid out before him, a feral scream ripped from his throat. His body tensed, and as I pulled tight on the rope he crumpled to the ground. Fear and disgust hung in the air, heavy with him, the noxious stain of blood that had seeped into the ground in front of him tearing at his eyes, which now looked only at the severed cock in the white snow.

I picked up the cock that was on the ground, shoving it deep into his mouth, even though his lips were tightly closed, pushing away the dead flesh on them.

He gagged as it filled his mouth, but I didn't care, I flung him against the bent bark, wrapping his arms with the rope and tying knots as the weight of my fury tightened. The rage ran wild inside me, pure and merciless, and the memories of what they'd done to her surged anew, setting fire to my blood. Every part of my body screamed for revenge, to feel that one helpless moment that she had felt.

I wanted them to disappear, to take them out of existence until their actions were a whisper, lost in the winds of time. My hands clenched, shaking with the hunger for justice, for the blood of those who had caused so much pain to her.

I stripped him of his clothes, the cold night air biting against his skin, adding to his torture. His eyes were wide, full of fear, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

I turned and walked away, the thud of my boots echoing through the stillness of the woods. I was at the edge of the clearing when I saw the axe. I gripped the handle tightly, knowing that when I returned, the moment would come when they would finally learn the price they had to pay.