13 Drops of Blood Read Online Free PDF Page A

inch in diameter. Some were twelve. A few looked to be sixteen. They reminded Scott of semi-circular shark fins, or teeth, or both.
    “Table saws,” he whispered, remembering the photograph. Hundreds of saws had been attached beneath the floor. This took time; someone wasn’t kidding around.
    He stepped back and looked at his wife with a new sense of fear.
    “Dear Lord,” he said. “You were right. This is a snuff film.”
     
    * * *
     
    Buck Million stood up from his chair and lifted a glass in the air. “That’s what I’m talking about,” he hollered, slurring his words slightly. “Let the show begin! Yah-hoo!”
    Someone else said, “Here, here!”
    Standing at the window, Lawrence and Elizabeth gazed into the room with the saws. Lawrence crumpled his face into a ball.
    What the hell is this , he wondered, some kind of game?
    Elizabeth saw a man and a woman acting afraid, fake carcasses lying inside glass cases, and saws––probably made of plastic––sticking through slots in the floor. She didn’t bother to look at the actors closely, or to analyze the props. She didn’t care for this type of entertainment; it wasn’t for her.
    She walked away from the excitement and sat in a chair near the pianist. The music he played was beautiful. It reminded her of a simpler time, when family was king and people were unadorned and content.
    After a fair-sized drink of wine she opened her purse, deciding it was a good time to phone her daughter.
    She hadn’t talked with Penny in days.
     
    * * *
     
    Scott saw the people watching through the large windows. He waved his hands in the air. One man waved back, smiled, and nudged the woman on his left. Scott waved twice more before his eyes returned to the blades in the floor.
There was a moment of silence, followed by the sound of a phone ringing. It was Penny’s phone, ringing from inside her purse.
Scott’s eyes widened. The concept of getting outside assistance hadn’t yet crossed his mind. “Answer it! We need help!”
Penny unbuckled her purse and went for the phone.
    A door––snuggled between two glass containers––opened, and Denoté stepped through the doorway, grinning like a wolf. He held a shotgun in his hands.
Penny pulled her phone free. “Hello?”
“Hi Penny,” Elizabeth said, watching the pianist. She sat her glass of wine on a table. “How are things?”
“Mom?”
Before Penny had a chance to say anything else, Denoté pointed to the far wall and shouted, “That’s your exit!”
Scott looked at the exit, and at the saws blocking the path. He screamed, “What the hell are you doing to us?”
Denoté only laughed. “Start the saws!”
    As if obeying his command, the saws came to life. The sound was gigantic; it was all Scott could hear. With the saws, the dog began barking hysterically and the music was turned louder to make things more powerful, more surreal. But how much stronger could things get? Wasn’t this intense enough?
    Penny shouted into the phone: “Mom? Mom? Can you hear me? Is that you? Oh God, I need help!”
    She looked at the floor.
    The blades were placed in odd angles, giving her room to walk but not much room for error. One missed step and you’d lose a toe, or maybe a heel.
    In-between the blades––blood, meat and bones sat in little piles.
    Denoté smiled. This was his favorite part of the show. He loved watching people scream. And although many victims ran into the saws like they wanted to get it over with, most just stood there, too scared to move, afraid of the foreseeable future.
    Seeing the woman’s phone, Denoté decided to accelerate the event. The people upstairs might not like it as much but so what? They had enough entertainment to satisfy the sickest elite minds.
    He reached into his pocket and clicked a button on a small devise. The dog’s cage began lifting towards the ceiling, setting the dog free.
Once it was able, the animal leapt from its cage, oblivious to the danger on the floor.
Scott