He could feel them digging into his skin, the sharp jagged barbs tearing through the muscle and the tendons. Every fiber of his being cried out in agony, his voice wracked with pain. When he’d first awakened in this living hell, suspended from some strange unknown ceiling by hundreds of fishhooks and tackle, Benny had screamed and thrashed, only to find that any movement dug the rusty metal hooks deeper into his flesh. He wanted to close his eyes, but the sharp hooks that had been threaded through his eyelids cut him when he did. “What did I do to deserve this?” he muttered through a mouthful of blood, “Why?” There were jagged barbs through his lips, making comprehensible speech nearly impossible, and Benny could watch the trickle of crimson fall to the floor like raindrops or tears, adding to the growing pool of sanguine quickly accumulating beneath him. Benny was naked, the multitude of barbs ripping into every exposed surface, keeping him lifted at least four feet off of the floor.
The room was bathed in shadow, and try as he might to recall how he had found himself in such a terrifying position, Benny found he couldn’t remember. He could picture himself going to bed the night before, blissful sleep taking hold. He could vaguely envision the cold hand covering his mouth, but after that there was only darkness, no recollection of how he got there or any explanation of why he wasn’t roused by the painful insertion of hundreds of rusty fishhooks into his flesh. Nothing could be drawn from the well of blankness. Even the extreme excruciating agony of being hoisted aloft was a non-existent memory, the first recollection coming into focus only after he had awoken suspended, thrashing in a world of pain. That he had been kept unaware the entire time suggested drugs, yet, for the life of him, Benny couldn’t figure out why. Questions of where he was and what he was doing there, in this world of macabre torture, ran through his mind. Suddenly, a sharp screeching, like the sound of an old door being drawn open, split the stillness of the room and Benny closed his eyes, wincing as ragged gashes cut into his eyes, stifling a scream as he tried to pretend he was still unconscious.
The room seemed to grow alive with light, blindingly bright, and Benny fought to keep his eyes closed. Not yet, you’ve got to think of how to get out of this, he thought to himself. “It’s no use,” a voice said and Benny found that it seemed uncannily familiar, the words almost a condemning response to his optimistic thoughts of escape. “I know you’re awake, Benny. I’ve been watching you. Studying you. Watching you suffer.”
Benny heard a noise and immediately a burning unparalleled pain racked his body as his eyelids were wrenched open involuntarily and the sharp corroded hooks dug into his irises. His vision blurry from the eye wounds, Benny could see a hooded figure, eerily reminiscent of an executioner, yanking down on a set of fishing line, obviously attached through pulleys to his eyelids. Benny’s frantic thrashing caused by the pain only made the other hooks in his body dig deeper.
“You like my handiwork, Benny? I know you like your handiwork,” the masked figure said, approaching.
“I...I don’t know...what...you’re talking...about,” Benny sputtered, seeing a healthy smattering of blood soaking the floor below.
“Oh, I think you do, Benny. I think you know quite well. I think you even recognize my voice.” The masked figured paused for a second, almost in reverie. “And I thought I had the perfect set up. A nice little town. No problems. Ha,” the voice laughed, though there was no humor in the tone. “It’s the ultimate irony.”
Benny shook his head inadvertently, before realizing what he was doing and the hooks tethered to his neck dug through his skin, some ripping free and taking flesh with them.
“They called you ‘The Fisherman’ because of the way you lured them in,” The masked figure continued. “It was your MO. Tell the little girls you’d take them on a fishing trip. Only none of them ever returned. You don’t know how long it took me to track you down, Benny. The Green River guy was at large for over twenty years. I got you in less than five. You kept moving, but I tracked you down. I read every news snippit, every little article in the paper, looking for a foiled kidnapping attempt, a dead body discovered. You liked to use fishing line to tie them up while you raped them.” The masked figure was within striking distance now and he lashed out, grabbing Benny’s arms and yanking down, the hooks tearing through his flesh, drawing a hail of blood. “How do you like your fishing line now, Benny? The police couldn’t find you, but I did. I never gave up. Not after what you did to my daughter. After that, I could never forget you. And now I’m going to use all my talent to torture you.”
Benny opened his mouth to scream but the masked figure was already removing his hood. Realization struck as Benny saw the face unveiled. It was a face he’d seen wracked with agony at the little girl’s funeral, a face he’d seen day in and day out for years. Now there was only marked terror at seeing that familiar visage. “You were my neighbor for five years and I never even suspected. I was trying to live the good life. And you had to take my daughter, Benny. My only daughter. I guess they say the sins of the father have to be paid for by the child, even after you’re forgiven by God. Well, for me, Benny, I just think that might be true. I killed more people in my day than you ever could fathom. You see, Benny, I was a murderer too. But I found religion and I changed. Moved to suburbs and started a family, but then you came into the picture. Can you imagine that? Two serial killers, living side by side. Only I’m trying to better myself. But you brought me back, Benny, for a ‘one night only’ show. I thought about things long and hard after you took my daughter from me. I thought that maybe if I hadn’t been who I had been, if I hadn’t done what I had done... but then I thought that if I hadn’t then I wouldn’t be able to stop you and do what I’m going to do to you. But the philosophy lesson is over, Benny, now it’s time for some schooling in pain. And believe me, I’m an excellent teacher. You’re going to suffer like I’ve had to suffer. You see, for you, the agony is just beginning...”
