Obscure Blood Read Online Free Page B

floor and suddenly Octa’s hand gripped the back of his neck and shoved him forward. His belly hit countertop and he doubled over.
    Octa grabbed his uninjured hand and shoved it down the open drain. His foot and hand throbbing in agony, Brinking didn’t think fast enough to fight Octa and he screamed again when the garbage disposal roared to life in the darkness, the vibration pulsing through counter, tickling his gut.
    He barely registered that bits of his fingers were ground away by the whirling blades and turned to bite Octa on the shoulder. Octa pushed his arm deeper into the drain. Brinking groaned and gave in. He doesn’t know who he’s dealing with, Octa thought. He’s about to know my dark side.
    Octa released Brinking and quickly left the room. Brinking pressed his bleeding hand to his chest. The light was suddenly on. He looked at his bat-broken hand, and the bleeding mess of the other and horror crept more solidly into his eyes as tears flowed down his sweating face… There was a towel and a bottle of whiskey on the table. Damn, what am I thinking? flashed through Brinking’s mind. He poured the alcohol on his hand, and fell to the floor. He took the towel and wrapped it around the stub of his hand, which was missing its fingers. The bones hung, dangling small shreds of flesh. Octa shoved the broken hand down the disposal.
    “You win,” he cried out.
    “Hmm,” he heard someone sigh. It was Octa.
    He walked out of the kitchen, turning all the lights on. As the maimed officer tried to step out, Octa came behind him and hit him in the head.

Chapter Eight
    When Officer Brinking regained consciousness, he was in a cemetery with his hands tied behind him, lying on his right side. Opening his eyes, he saw a tomb mausoleum in front of him with the words Octa Family . He closed his eyes and opened them. Still there. He did it again. It was still there. “It is real,” he murmured.
    Octa grabbed him by the back of the collar, and said, “Let’s go.”
    “No, no, I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
    “Nah, I’m just gonna kill you.”
    Octa was not himself. The tomb had no doors on the four sides. There was only a set of stairs that went to the roof. He accompanied officer Brinking up the stairs, listening to him plead for his life.
    Octa sat Brinking on the surface of a small square. The tomb was ten feet tall, and each side approximately ten feet. Octa pulled hard on the cemented square cover.
    Octa had to use his legs to budge the cover. After removing the cemented cover, Brinking said “You are just a sadist.”
    “I’ve a police meeting tonight at 11:30. I don’t think we have time to discuss that subject.”
    Octa pushed him into the tomb after he untied Brinking’s arms. It seemed that there was something soft under him. Something that gave off such a powerful stench he had to cover his mouth.
    “Octa, I hate you,” he said. “They’ll find you and have you arrested.”
    “Who? They? The best way to hide a dead body is in your own graveyard or tomb.” He dragged the piece of cement covering the Octa tomb. No noise could be heard coming from the room once the doorway was covered.

    Once home, Octa took a shower. His shoulders were in pain, and the slicing flesh wound burned in his abdomen. His wounds were still bad, and he had not taken care of them.
    The bell rang. He looked through the window and saw one of the police officers from work. He went down without his towel on. Before he opened the door, he took a flower from the vase next to the door and placed it between his lips. He stripped another one and placed the leaves on the floor. He opened the door, and said, “Yes, my darling.” The police officer looked startled.
    Octa let the flower fall on the floor. “Oh my God, I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought it was my wife.”
    “I’m sorry for coming at the wrong time,” the other man said. “I’ll come back tomorrow.” He turned around when Octa stepped back inside