The Dark Sire Issue 9 (Fall 2021) | Page 25

blue yet like Sammy ’ s . Callie slapped Prissy ’ s face , then formed fists and pummeled her body like a punching bag , squeezed Prissy ’ s cheeks so hard that a reddish pink shown through . It felt good to slap her bully , to punch her dead body , to do some damage . Callie slapped her again and again and again , as if some nefarious force pushed her to do the deed . She had rationalized it , considered it retribution not only for herself but also for Sammy . Callie had always wished Prissy dead . But why did she have to cause the death of her own child ?
“ This one ’ s for you , Sammy .” Callie didn ’ t care about the damage she was causing . No one would catch her . They would assume that any injuries and bruises were a result of the violent accident . It was merely a corpse whose next stop was the cold hard ground where worms and beetles would become her new best friends . But Callie wasn ’ t done . Leaning in a corner were several steel rods , parts for some shelving that was never put together . Callie snatched one , felt the cold metal inside her clenched fists , crossed to Prissy ’ s body , then raised the rod high over her head before coming down with such force that it screamed as it tore through the air . A cacophony of cracks and crunches filled the cavernous basement , the limp body no match to Callie ’ s maniacal frenzy . Prissy ’ s ribs broke apart from constant pummels . Her spleen burst , her hip shattered , a knee caved in . It felt good . So good . Beads of sweat formed on Callie ’ s forehead then streamed down her face and neck , her arms ached from constantly slamming against an immovable body , arcing the iron staff way , way up and then down like a whip . It was the sort of relief
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