Free Fishing in Brains for an Eye with Teeth (Thirteen Tales of Terror) by William Markly O'Neal Page A

he was burnt alive, Peter Proctor shrieked and screamed.
    Talytha looked away, causing her wrists some pain when she spontaneously tried to cover her ears and couldn’t because of the handcuffs.
    Peter’s wailing death-throes lasted less than five minutes but they were the longest minutes of Talytha’s life.  She tried to keep her eyes averted but made the mistake of glancing up at the picture.  That fleeting look showed her a charring tongue jutting from the screaming mouth of a face on fire.
    By the time the portrait stopped howling, Talytha realized she was screaming, as were many others inside this desecrated church.
    The Painter let the moment play out until all the screams dissolved into sobs.  He then nodded at Lummox and pointed at the still burning canvas.  At some point when Talytha wasn’t looking, Lummox retrieved a fire extinguisher that he now used to put out the sputtering flames.
    Talytha looked back at the Painter and shook her head with disbelief.  His erection still hadn’t wilted.
    “Well,” he said, and then paused to look at the people of Paintersville.  When he finally spoke again, it was in his raised-volume orator voice.  He shouted, “Let’s hope we don’t have to witness anything like that ever again!”
    Several voices said an, “Amen” in unison.
    Walking away from the charred ruins of Peter Proctor, the Painter looked at Talytha.  He tapped the tattoo on his left breast, shouting, “Everybody here tonight has loved ones who are now a part of my collection.  Every One Of You has friends and relatives who could easily suffer a similar fate if you fail to please me.  And this,” he tapped the tattoo again, now addressing Talytha, “is why no one here will ever defy me.  Lummox, tell Miss Taylor here what happens if my heart should stop . ”
    Lummox snorted. “Everybody dies.”
    “That’s right.”  The Painter smiled.  He shouted, “If anything happens to me , all my paintings—all their LOVED ONES WILL BURN! ”
    The Painter strolled up to Talytha, who was prevented from backing away by Brown Overalls.  She grimaced as the Painter came so close his erect penis nearly brushed against her.  Tapping his tattoo one last time, he spoke now only for Talytha, in a low whisper, telling her, “When I die, all my good work will go up in flames.  All my work,” he said ominously, “and everyone in it.”  He leaned in and whispered in Talytha’s ear, “Including your sister.”
    The Painter grabbed Talytha’s head and roughly kissed her.  She tried to struggle but he was very strong.  And so she tried to bite him but he pulled away just before she could.  “Ha,” he said, rubbing his lip to make certain it was still whole.
    Talytha didn’t realize how stupid the words were until they’d already flown out her mouth, “You’ll never get away with this!”
    “That’s what they said to Hitler.  And Van Gogh.  And Milli Vanilli.”  The Painter snickered. “Nobody gets away with anything forever .”  He winked at Talytha, still tittering.  “The trick is to enjoy your little evils while they last!”
    Before she could respond, the Painter ordered, “Doctor, do your duty.”
    A cloth soaked with chloroform was slapped over Talytha’s mouth and nose.
    ******
    She awoke to a groggy existence where she was gagged and bound, spread-eagled on her back, her wrists and ankles tied to the four posts of an elegant bed.  A feather pillow was under her head; a cotton canopy was above her; and silk sheets were beneath her.  Her brains didn’t hurt so much anymore but when she opened her eyes and tried to raise her head, dizziness prevented her from getting anywhere.  Talytha moaned.
    The Painter said cheerfully, “Ah.  There you are. Your timing is perfect, actually.  I’m almost done here.”
    She was no longer in the sanctuary of the defiled church but the sounds were almost the same.  The ballad on the boombox was fairly loud; Buckcherry was singing