A Simple Game.

A Simple Game.

“E.” Jake looks at me with wide eyes, practically vibrating with anxiousness. He’d picked E, the most common letter in the alphabet. He was desperate to pick a correct one this time.

I rise, smiling, and he whimpers. I write E on the board next to his other failed letters. O, U, I, G, B, F, K, E.

“The word was ‘Jazz’.” You only got the A, Jake. I’ve built the gallows, made the noose, and now the last leg is gone. You’re going to need to do better,” I say as I walk across the room.

Jake’s face grows pale. “Please, just another guess. Just one more.”

“Now now, you know the rules,” I say, grabbing some nylon rope. “8 guesses and you lose.” I fasten the tourniquet to his wife’s left leg, her one remaining foot pulling desperately at the chains that keep her pinned to the floor, weeping through the gag.

“Please. Please!” Jake yells as I grab the electric saw. I pull the welding mask down and begin cutting Mary’s leg. Blood splashes across my apron and mask, the stumps of her arms flapping uselessly above as the saw bites in. She hasn’t gotten used to not having hands and is trying to grab me, but she passes out as I sever the bone and finish the procedure.

I smile at her still form, her body swaying from the noose now that both her legs are missing. Jake sobs in his cage.

“Cheer up Jake. You may have lost the first game, but you could still win the second.“ I reach for his son, Dylan’s eyes growing wide and tears streaming down his face.

Hangman was so much more fun when someone was at stake.