A beat.

Oh, no, Dean. What are you doing?

Dean must have a death wish because he continues. “You’re a sick, twisted piece of garbage. You’ll never get away with this because you’ll keep doing it. You’ll keep kidnapping women because there’s not a single fucking reality where you could even pay a woman to touch your tiny, impotent dick. You’re going to get caught, and then you’re going to rot in a prison cell where Carl shoves his enormous cock up your ass every night until you drop dead, you fat, fucking fuck.”

Earl is silent for a moment, his pistol positioned right at Dean’s chest. My heart all but stops as I wait, my insides twisting with dread.

He’s going to kill him.

He’s absolutely going to kill him.

I can’t let that happen.

Before the trigger is pulled, before a shot rings out and Dean drops in front of my eyes, I let out a mighty, shrill scream and shake my chains at the same time. It’s enough to pierce the silence and force Earl’s attention in my direction for the briefest moment.

It’s enough to give Dean a tiny, pivotal window to make his move.

It’s our one and only chance of getting out of here alive, and Dean takes it.

He follows through on his promise.

With a guttural growl, Dean lunges at Earl and knocks him right off his feet. They both tumble backwards onto the hard ground, Dean on top, Earl grabbing for his pistol that slipped from his meaty paw. Dean gets to it first and shoves it away with a quick swipe of his hand, and I watch it slide across the floor and out of Earl’s reach.

“You motherfucker,” Dean spits out, slinking one palm around Earl’s neck as he rises to his knees and straddles our captor, beating him with his opposite fist. Dean pummels him. He’s violent and angry and completely zoned out. “You sick piece of shit. This is for laying your disgusting fucking hands on her.”

Thwap. Thwap. Thwap.

The sound of fist against face is sickening as blood spatters up at Dean and all around us. I’m holding my breath, squeezing the pole with all my might, watching the horrific scene in front of me.

“You bastard. You fucking bastard.” Dean is focused. Determined. He’s using both fists now to wreak havoc on Earl’s face until the monster becomes unrecognizable. “How dare you fucking touch her. I’ll fucking kill you.”

Thwap. Thwap. Thwap.

Blood, flesh, bone. It’s everywhere. Earl’s limbs quiver in shock as he loses the fight and goes limp on the cement.

“You’re dead. You’re fucking dead,” Dean seethes, spitting through his teeth, his punches hard and brutal. He’s an animal—out of control. “I’ll kill you.”

But he already did. It’s done.

It’s over.

I hear skull cracking, and I clench my eyes shut, shouting, “Dean, stop!”

“Fuck you, motherfucker.”

Thwap. Crack. Thwap.

“He’s dead, Dean!” I cry. “He’s dead. He’s dead. Please stop.”