It's always great when the boss finally has a new target for us, and this one was great. Some runner fuck who's apparently very good at escaping death or something called him... Orion? O'reiley? Omega? Doesn't hardly matter, he died just the fucking same.
Which is to say, painfully and well.
I set this O'Malley fuck up in a strip mall of all fucking things. I don't know what posessed him, but he went for it. Probably thought he'd be safe in a big crowd or something, I don't fucking know the way the stupid runner fucks think. But it was closing time, and it didn't take much effort to... dispose of the closing clerk at the kitchen store Omega found himself in and lock the stupid fuck inside.
Those little metal lattice things stores use to keep from being robbed are pretty good for keeping someone inside, as well. Just took a little bit of fussing with shelving to block off the view of what I was doing to the poor fuck.
And I admit, I took my time. Used several tablecloths stolen from the store to keep from making a mess on their floor, used a couple clotheslines similarly stolen to bind him so I could have my fun.
It's been a while since I really sat down and tortured someone, after all.
Or it was.
Kitchen supply stores are perfect for torture supplies. Lots of high quality knives, plenty of heat sources designed to cook meat. Plenty of strange, sharp odds and ends.
Apparently it's not acceptable to go into too much detail about one's techniques, but I'll give you a list of the tools I used, to give you a picture.
One Sandwich grill
One flat cheesegrater
One circular battery powered cheesegrater
One heavy marble rolling pin
Two knives, one short and wickedly pointed, the other longer with a better edge
One heavy duty meat tenderizer
One popcorn maker, sans popcorn (used for heating oil)
One restauraunt quality industrial slicer
One smaller slicer that the box called a Mandoline
One pair of kitchen shears
One heavy stone pestle
One handheld juicer
One nut cracker
One canister salt
One bottle of lemon juice
One egg timer (used as a gag, along with a torn bit of tablecloth)
I waited until the place was properly cleared out, due to the potential for noise, and then got to work. I spent most of the night on him, and he only died an hour before sunset, which I was fairly impressed by.
I then rolled him up in the tablecloths for transport, used the store's cleaning products to clean my implements, and toted everything out in a pair of trashbags, looking like just another employee cleaning up. The kitchen supplies, after being soaked in bleach for an hour, were dumped in the man-made lake the mall is built around. The body has already been quietly handed over to a particularly useful crematoriam worker to be incinerated.