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Kill #25 - Kitt Fit Kill, Part II

Becca had struggled with her weight for most of her life. But a chance encounter with Nick Carter would change all of that.

On the day she met Nick, Becca stood five feet tall and weighed two hundred and twenty pounds. Dragging her body across the floor of his garage was a lot like rolling a large medicine ball, Nick decided. Luckily, Lauren had convinced him to incorporate strength training into his workouts. It came in handy as he hoisted his unconscious victim onto his work bench. He couldn’t resist taking a picture of himself flexing his bicep to post on Twitter.

Nick Carter @nickcarter
Doing some heavy lifting… check out these guns! #KittFit

By the time Becca came to, Nick had chained her arms to the back wall of his garage. Her legs were shackled to a separate length of chain, which he’d hooked to the trailer hitch on the back of his SUV. The chains rattled as she struggled to free herself.

Watching her writhe on the table, Nick shook his head. “Becca, Becca, Becca… you’re gonna pull a muscle if you don’t do a proper warm-up first. The key to increasing your range of motion is stretching.” He drew out the word, raising his arms above his head so she could see the car keys he held in one hand. “Let’s get those stubby little arms and legs of yours looking long and lean, shall we?”

“Please,” Becca begged pitifully, shaking her head back and forth, “don’t hurt me.”

“No pain, no gain,” Nick replied, jangling his keys. “You gotta push through the pain!” He jumped into the driver’s seat of his SUV, and the engine sprang to life. He revved it a few times while the vehicle was in park, then shifted it into drive and took his foot off the brake.

Through the open window, he could hear her start to scream as the SUV rolled forward, pulling the chains taut. He watched in the rearview mirror as her whole body was lifted off the work table, suspended in midair by the force being exerted on her arms and legs. “Did you know they called this being ‘drawn and quartered’ back in medieval times?” he shouted out the window, though he wasn’t sure Becca could hear him over the sound of her own screams.

Afraid the neighbors would hear, he braked and put the SUV back into park. By the time he’d shut off the engine, Becca had stopped screaming. “Of course, back then they used horses instead of cars,” he added, as he climbed out and walked to the back of the garage to check on her. She was breathing as fast and hard as if she’d just run a race, her skin pale and sweaty, her stretched limbs shaking visibly. “They’d tie your arms and legs to four horses, then slap the horses to send them running in different directions so that they ripped you apart - into four quarters, get it? That’s why they called it ‘quartering.”

Becca sobbed, as Nick smiled. He’d always enjoyed learning about the gorier parts of history.

“I’ll let you cool down for a sec while I get set up for the next leg of your weight loss journey.” As he lifted his ax from its peg on the wall above the work bench, he snickered to himself, amused by his little pun. “One way or the other, we’re gonna get you down to your ideal weight,” he promised, touching the blade of the ax. It was a little duller than he’d have liked, but he decided he’d just have to make do.

“Wh-what are you going to do with that?” Becca whimpered, watching him with wide eyes.

“Sorry, sweetie, but you have a lot of weight to lose and only a short window of time in which to lose it. Lauren’ll be back in a week, and I can’t have your lard ass still lying around when she gets here. Drastic times call for drastic measures.”

He raised the ax above his head and swung it swiftly down, sinking the blade into her thigh. Becca let out a blood-curdling scream, which he ignored. The blade wasn’t sharp enough to cut all the way through the bone, so he wrenched it out and took a second swing. This time, he succeeded in severing her left leg.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he said, “Did you know each of your legs weighs about twenty percent of your total body weight? So once I take this other one off, you’ll be down almost…” He paused to do the math in his head. “…eighty-eight pounds. Can’t beat that!”

Becca was too busy screaming to reply.

“Here goes! Get ready to lose it, girl!” Taking a deep breath, Nick hoisted the ax over his head again and brought it hurtling down to strike her remaining leg. He was more tired this time, so it took three blows before he’d completely cut off the limb.

Becca, too, was growing weaker, as the blood pumped out of her mutilated stumps and pooled on the garage floor.

“Good thing I remembered to put down a tarp,” Nick said, skidding a little on the length of plastic sheeting. “Now, let’s target those flabby arms of yours next.”

With her arms still chained to the wall behind her, Becca was powerless to fight him off. All she could do was flop around like a fish, her severed legs spurting more blood with every feeble movement she made. Nick choked up on the axe handle and took aim, eyeing the exposed flesh of her upper arms. Plump and milky white, it reminded him of uncooked sausage. And once the blade of the axe had broken through the casing of her skin and struck bone, the bloody shreds of tissue that remained looked just as raw. He didn’t blame Becca for passing out when she turned her head and saw the severed remains of her right arm; it was, after all, a pretty gruesome sight. But he was used to such things by now and wasn’t bothered by the blood and gore. He went about his work in a businesslike manner, chopping off her other arm with the stomach of a surgeon and the strength of a lumberjack.

“I-I-I’m a lumberjack, and I’m okay! I sleep all night, and I work all day!” sang Nick gleefully as he chopped, hacking the arm away from its shoulder. “TIM-BER!” he shouted, before severing the last bit of sinew that connected the two. The arm went swinging on its chain and smacked into the wall, leaving a smear of blood on the drywall. “Nothing a little bleach and a fresh coat of paint can’t fix,” said Nick to himself. “Now to finish the job!”

But for that, he wanted his victim awake, so he tapped Becca on the shoulder, causing more blood to spew out onto his shoes. “Damn, and I liked this pair, too.” He shook his head. “Oh well… time to wake up and see this bangin’ new bod of yours, babe!” He gave Becca another rough poke, and she recoiled in pain, her eyes popping open. “Ah, there we go. Up and at ‘em! Let’s get you on the scale and see how much you’ve lost!”

Becca was free from her chains now, but without arms or legs, she could do nothing but writhe around as Nick scooped her up and carried her to the scale he’d set on the floor of the garage. He lowered her down onto the scale, forcing her to sit upright so it could calculate her current weight. Becca slumped feebly in his arms, fading fast from blood loss, but he held her up until the scale finished calibrating. Curious, he looked down at the number. “One hundred ten!” he announced. “Look at that, Becca - you’ve lost half your body weight! Another ten pounds, and you’ll be right at the ideal body weight for your height. And wouldn’t you know it? The human head weighs an average of ten pounds!”

At that, Becca’s eyes rolled back into her head, and she fell into a dead faint. With a sigh, Nick hauled her back up onto the table. “Stay awake!” he shouted, slapping her cheeks. Without her conscious, this wouldn’t be nearly as fun. Becca came to briefly, just long enough for him to appreciate the look in her eyes as she saw the bloodied blade of the axe flying toward her face. It struck her just under the chin, sinking quite easily through her throat and severing her spine as it split her neck in half. She blinked once more as her decapitated head went rolling off the table and bounced onto the floor. When Nick reached down and picked it up by the hair, her eyes were frozen in fear, the pupils fixed and dilated, but fresh tears were still trickling out of their corners.

“I know… I know,” he whispered, patting her head. “Anyone would cry with happiness after losing this much weight.” Then he set down the head so he could snap an “after” picture of the mangled torso on the table before he started chopping it up.

Once he had finished bagging Becca’s body parts and cleaning up the blood, he took one more photo, a “selfie” of himself holding up the gleaming axe. He made sure the calorie counter he wore on his wrist was turned toward the camera. Then he uploaded the picture, accompanied by another tweet:

Nick Carter @nickcarter
Just burned 341 calories chopping firewood. Great way to blow off some steam and stay #KittFit!

Feeling tired, but accomplished, he headed into the house to soak his sore muscles in a hot bath. Two down, he thought. One to go. He would finish off contestant number three later.