Ficool

Chapter 4 - Chapter 4

---

Chapter 4 — Pigsty

(Content Warning: Psychological horror, torture implication, dissociation.)

---

I don't even know what the hell I'm doing anymore.

K. and that demon — whatever he is — wanted to kill my old boss.

The man who conveniently forgot to pay me more than once.

> "We're doing society a favor. The guy dodges taxes."

K. said it like he was ordering a cup of coffee.

I stared at the two voices in my head.

> What the hell are you both even made of?

A black car rolled past.

Then, suddenly, my legs moved on their own.

> "Hey, wait! That's a car!"

"That's a car, damn it!"

But no. Somehow, I was faster than it.

A brick came flying — I don't even know where it came from — and smashed through the windshield.

> "What the—?! Where did you get that?!"

"Fun's just getting started."

K. took control.

He dragged the man out of the vehicle like a bag of trash, threw him on a rusty bike, and pedaled toward an abandoned pig farm.

---

(Skip ahead if you have a weak heart. What follows is not okay.)

---

The place wasn't anything special.

Old tools. Rust. A rotting stench.

But K. had been here before. He had plans.

Under a tarp was an old autopsy table.

> "Doctor, if you would."

Someone else took over.

Not K.

Not the demon.

Someone... cold. Precise. Silent.

> "Why is it me?! I don't want this. I don't want—"

the demon whimpered, fading away.

My body moved without me.

We tied the boss down.

A scalpel gleamed in my hand.

Small cuts. Dozens of them.

Deep enough to bleed. Never deep enough to die.

> "What are you doing?! What the hell are you doing?!"

> "Making you feel what your employees felt. Bit by bit. Just less paperwork."

> "I don't know anything! I swear—!"

The scalpel danced.

Blood. Pain.

And then... salt.

> Just like they did it centuries ago.

Not enough to kill.

But it made his whole body tremble.

> "Alright, I've had enough."

the demon whispered, disappearing.

K. laughed quietly.

> "You guys are worse than me."

Then he picked up the man — 90 kilograms of dead weight — with one arm.

Tossed him into a tank of ice and saltwater.

The scream was...

Not human.

> "You... that's salt?!"

"And ice. Salt and ice. Lovely combo."

We walked out.

There was a shallow pit.

I kicked the car into it like it weighed nothing.

Then I buried it.

Like it was a dead dog.

> "This is insane. No one's going to believe this."

"Good. Now go get him."

We pulled him out.

His skin had gone blue. Lips, trembling. Barely conscious.

> "One more thing. He won't go to waste."

The body was cut into pieces.

Sealed in thick bags.

> "What the hell is this—food for pigs?! You're crazy!"

> "Be glad I'm not feeding you to them instead."

We drove to a large pig farm.

Slipped the meat into the feed.

The pigs swarmed the trough, squealing with joy.

> "Oh god—"

I puked.

Hard.

> "Clean up. Idiot."

I burned the blood, cleaned the tools, deleted camera logs.

K. apparently could hack anything.

> "Now we wait."

> "This is too much fun. Too much—hahahaha!"

---

More Chapters