Screaming Pleasures
P.S. Gifford

I like to hear babies scream.

I do not mean the sort of whiny annoying scream they gurgle when they want their diapers changing or want to greedily suckle on their mother's engorged breast. No I mean an agonizing, mind-piercing wonderful, makes you feel good to be alive scream. The sort of scream generated by an electric carving knife slicing through their powder fresh squishy baby flesh until one of their perfectly formed legs is completely off. It never fails to both amuse and delight me.

Take last week for instance. I was very fortunate to find a particularly chubby and juicy specimen. He was surely no more than five months old and had a perpetual smirk on his rounded little pink face…Or at lest it was perpetual until I got my hands on the little fellow. I was in an exceptionally creative mood, so I decided to browse about in my workshop to find a new and interesting method of generating the sort of screams that I so much enjoy.

I gazed affectionately at my electric drill. Then I and my eyes for a gleeful moment as I vividly relived a very special memory; a memory of a time its tungsten tip penetrated a young baby girl's blonde curly hair covered cranium. That had been one of the best screams ever, as the drill cut through her soft skull and went deep into her brain. The only problem is that she died far too quickly, and I was left with silence-and a frightful mess that needed to be cleaned up.

I then looked at the vice, attached to my work bench. I could easily imagine a baby's head clamped in it, as I ever so slowly tightened it…I could just hear in my mind the sound of the skull creaking-until all at once there would be an incredible and wonderful pop, and the child's head would cave in, and their young brains would splatter out everywhere.

But again that was going to be far too messy. I must confess to being a bit of a neat freak.

I continued to look around my workshop. Then my eyes opened wide as I saw the perfect thing, my trusted pair of pliers.

Oh how magnificent the next hour was…As one by one I tore off the little mite's fingernails, and then their toenails. It was wonderful as it took almost an hour to remove all ten nails, and he never stopped hollering the entire time, plus the mess made was minimal, just a little blood. It is a good job that I live secluded in the country, as that little chap screamed louder than any one I had ever experimented on so far.

Yes, it truly was a most wonderful afternoon indeed!

I suppose you wonder how I have such a ready supply of baby's. Well, it is a relatively simple process. I have plotted out all of those multi-mega-mart discount stores that are splattered across England. I never like to go to one less than a hundred miles from my house- you can not be too careful you know.

You would be absolutely amazed at how involved the mothers are as they ogle the cheap crappy merchandise. It is a relative simple process of getting their shopping trolley, and quickly making it to the exit. No-one blinks an eye at a woman in her fifties pushing a young baby along. They just suppose it to be her grandchild. The whole thing takes less than five minutes. *** I like to make baby killers scream.

My name is Sam Williams and I am a private investigator by trade. I used to be a police officer, but was let go for being a little too hands on with some of the people I had arrested. However I still have many good associates in the force, and whenever they catch one of those twisted mother fuckers or perverse sickos, they simply turn them over to me. Trust me; what I do to them is far worse than the bloody lenient court system, which makes them look like the bloody victim. Oh no, with me I truly make their lives a living Hell.

Take this woman for instance…We caught her at a giant shopping warehouse, just outside of Birmingham, trying to carry off a sweet eight month old baby girl. But she did not know me and my colleagues had been onto her for some time, that she was leaving a trail. They all make mistakes you know. They think they are smart-but we are always smarter in the end.

She sure looked fucking surprised as we pounced on her in the car park. We pushed her into our big white van, while one of the female constables returned the baby to their rightful owner. When inside the van I stuck that long needle, the one I enjoy using so much, into her arm to knock her out. I never was much good at giving injections mind you…It must have hurt like the Dickens.

That was eight months ago; and ever since she has been kept down in my basement, with five other bastards.

The room is soundproofed so they can make as much noise as they want to. Most of the time they just moan and pray to god: As if god is going to help any of these twisted fuck ups.

I clumsily sewed their eyelids open, so they can't ever close them…they even sleep with their eyes open. That looks pretty creepy let me tell you.

I discovered a new toy the other day-It administers electric shocks in really high voltage. No it won't kill them, do not worry. Apparently it is watts that kill people…This just creates unbearable pain and burns the flesh a little. Boy does it make those fuckers scream though.

I am heading down there right now…Care to come and watch?

Like I said there is nothing better than hearing a baby killer scream.

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