Filling the Second Grave Pt. 01

This is an homage to "When Plotting Revenge." by j267. It's dark-trust me. So was the original. It's one of those stories that made me sad, the ending sucked, and worse yet, the bad guys get away with murder (after a fashion.) Call me soft, but I root for the good guys. Happy endings are mandatory. Good story, well written, just wrong. I have tried to contact the author several times but to no avail. I hope he approves.

I recommend reading the original to get an idea of what I am trying to say. Be advised that while the sex is hot, the situation was a little hard for me to take. Hence "Filling the Grave". Based upon Confucius says, "When contemplating revenge, dig two graves."

You'll see.

So read this, please, and ENJOY!!

The BEAR

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Chapter 1

My name is Roger Butler. My life is a mess. It all started when I tried to get revenge on J.D. Thornton. Unfortunately, my idea of revenge and his were different. That will change.

It started with a meeting with my friend, Carl Westbrook. He was having some troubles with our contracts, partially because my restarted company was dropping the ball- constantly.

My divorce was proceeding and the bitch was trying to get him, Don Voisin, back. He had left for Las Vegas where he lived, and she followed, staying for several weeks. Finally, she knew it was over, and she returned to her house.

She tried to fight the divorce, saying she wanted to 'work on our marriage', but it was over. She tried various ploys, even tried to seduce me a couple of times. Not happening. Her folks and the pastor thought I should suck it up and give her another chance. It was just a minor bump in the road.

That ended when I gave them each a copy of one of the more graphic c/d's, with the note "Where was she the last 3 weeks?" She finally caved and signed the papers. Three months later, I was a free man. Yeah, right!

Carl looked at me and asked what the hell was wrong with me? It had been almost five months since the divorce.

"What happened to your company? This prick Thornton is ruining your name and pissing off a lot of people."

The story spilled out-all of it.

He sat there listening, and when I was done, he said one word.

"SO?"

"What do you mean, 'So?' What was I supposed to do? I tried to get revenge. Look what happened!"

"YOU CALL THAT REVENGE? These two are still walking the earth upright, your life is a total disaster, your marriage is a train wreck, and you're sitting there saying 'Oh, woe is me!'

"Get your head our of your ass, son. You have NOTHING left to lose. Get your manhood back, at least. MAKE THEM PAY!"

He was right. I rose, shook his hand, thanked him and left.

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Chapter 2

One week later, I was in Las Vegas. It turned out that this asshole, Don Voisin, was a known name around town. He worked as an 'independent business consultant', whatever that was. He had an office in a modest office building off the strip, with a parking garage. He had a reserved parking spot, with his name on it, where his Cadillac-STS was parked.

He usually arrived between 9 and 10 every morning and left around 6 p.m.

I went to a military surplus store and bought a K-Bar combat knife and a Taser. Stopping at a convenience store, I purchased a pair of rubber gloves and a box of 1-gal. Zip-loc bags. I took cabs everywhere I went if I didn't walk. I changed motels (not hotels) every day. I paid cash.

At 6:04 I was waiting near his car. Twice before I had been there and unfortunately other people were there. Yesterday, it was a blonde woman, with wedding rings and a come hither look. She got in the car and he went to the driver's side and got in, started it up, and left.

"Enjoy yourself, asshole," I muttered.

The next day, at 6:12, he came out, whistling. Alone. No one else around. (Or so I thought.)

I quickly moved up to him. "Excuse me. Mr. Voisin?"

He turned to my voice.

"Yes?"

I came up to him. "Mr. Don Voisin?"

Now he looked puzzled. "Do I know you?" he said.

I was right in front of him. I extended my hand. He went to take it when he noticed the rubber glove.

"Mary Helen Butler, you god dam fucking prick," I said. His eyes widened and he started to backpedal.

I stuck the taser into his throat and pulled the trigger.

He gagged, bit his tongue, peed his pants, and shit himself. I kept the taser going, and he sagged to the concrete. But I caught him, removed the keys from his hand, and propped him on the trunk. I opened the trunk and shoved him in. I stuck the taser in my pocket and reached into my other pocket and pulled the K-bar, slashed his pants, belt, underwear, and his gut. Unintentionally.

I reached down, took a deep breath, and grabbed his penis and balls. Three swipes of the knife, intentionally, and I scooped them into a Zip-loc bag. I worked most of the air out of the bag and sealed it. Then I put it in a second bag and sealed it. There was blood all over everywhere. I wiped the knife on his shirt and spit on him. I didn't care; let them find my DNA.

I slammed the trunk lid, put the K-bar in my pocket, and turned to leave.

To come face to face with two neatly dressed young men, each carrying a Browning automatic pistol, equipped with silencers.

'Oh, shit!' I thought. 'COPS!' Then I realized- 'Cops don't carry weapons with silencers.' Security guys? Bodyguards?? It didn't matter; I was toast.

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Chapter 3

The two young men were clean-cut and standing about 8 ft. apart. The one on the right had his weapon in a two-handed grip but pointed at the ground.

The young man on the left held his weapon in his right hand loosely, and pointed to the side, away from me. I could rush the guy on the right and overpower him, and........ YEAH, SURE, I could.

The young man on the left held his gun up sideways and slowly slid it into his shoulder holster. Then he buttoned his jacket and held his hands out in front of himself. The guy on the right moved his weapon in his right hand to his side and appeared to relax.

"Mr. Butler, how are you, sir?"

'WHAT THE FUCK???' I thought.

"How do you know my name??" I asked, with a touch of fear.

He smiled and said, "I know all about you, sir. My name is Jeremy Raguso. This is my cousin, Joseph Longo. Say 'HI', Joey."

Joey had put his gun away and tipped a salute to me. "Good evening, Mr. Butler."

"Good evening, Joey", I stuttered.

Jeremy was chuckling. "You have us in a unique situation, Mr. Butler. We owe you a favor, and you are in our debt." He held out his hand.

"May I have the keys, the taser, the rubber gloves, the knife and the box of plastic bags, please?"

I looked at him and panicked for a moment.

"Don't worry, we will take care of everything," Jeremy said.

I thought for a moment, figured 'What the hell, I'm already dead.' I handed him everything and he handed them all to Joey. I offered the organ-filled bags to him, and he grimaced and said, "No, you hold onto them for a while."

He told Joey to change the plates on the Caddy and drive to the office, get Gino to follow him, and get rid of everything.

"What about him?," Joey said, pointing to me with menace.

"I'm taking him to see Dad," said Jeremy. Now it was Joey's turn to chuckle.

"Nice knowing you, Mr. Butler," said Joey. He turned to the Caddy and began changing the license plates.

Jeremy was grinning. "He's just jerking your chain, Mr. Butler. Come on."

I didn't move. He turned and smiled.

"It's o.k., come on." I followed him.

We went across the garage to the next row and came up to a plain white Ford Explorer. Jeremy hit the fob, it chirped awake, and he got in. I shrugged and got in the passenger side.

"Seat belt," he said, with the tone of a dad with young children. I buckled up, and we left the garage. He turned out onto the Strip and drove to a slightly classier part of town. We arrived at a 15-story building, with a helipad on the roof, and pulled into the underground garage. We got out and walked to the elevator. As we entered, he pushed 15, and the doors closed.

"The top two floors are family businesses. My siblings have several, in addition to our parent's personal charities and businesses. The next three floors are my father's casino holdings, two trucking companies, and several landscaping companies, cleaning companies, two catering companies- and the obligatory sanitation company."

He looked at me and grinned.

"Garbage trucks," he chuckled. "My last name is Raguso, as I said.

We arrived on the 15th floor and walked up to an immaculate maple and redwood reception desk. The young lady behind the desk was pure class and drop-dead gorgeous. Smiled at me, and winked at Jeremy. He grinned. I looked at him, smiled, and said, under my breath, 'She has the hots for you, you know.'

He laughed, and whispered to me, "She better have- she's my wife."

Laughing all the way, he pushed the two oak doors open and we entered the domain of Mr. Salvatore Raguso.

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Chapter 4

Jeremy closed the doors behind us and led me to his father's desk.

"We're here, dad," he said. He went off to the left side of the desk and took a seat. "This is Mr. Roger Butler."

Mr. Raguso rose and extended his hand. "Mr. Butler, thank you. You were in the right place at the wrong time.

"Or the wrong place at the right time.

"Please, sit down. What can we get you to drink?"

"UH, iced tea would be fine." He turned to Jeremy as he rose. "Sweet, if you don't mind," I said. As Jeremy moved to the door, his father said, "AND LEAVE CHRISTINE ALONE!"

Jeremy didn't even slow up. As a matter of fact, he may have hustled a little quicker. His father just chuckled. He looked at me with a grin on his face. "My receptionist....."

"Is his wife. I know, he told me." Dad grinned.

"They have 2 kids and are very happy." His face crumbled.

"Which brings us to our present situation. I want to thank you for not letting my son commit murder. God knows the prick deserved it." He leveled a stare at me. "I guess you want the story."

He sighed.

"I know all about you. I know your story. I know what the prick and his cock sucking friend in Austin did to you, your wife, and your family. I don't need to see the videos, as I have seen my own. We checked you out when Jeremy and Joseph came upon you three days ago.

"By the way, Mr. Westbrook says be careful."

'WHAT THE FUCK??' I thought.

He was a stressed man, a severely damaged individual. I listened as he told me his story.

"My youngest daughter was seduced by this arrogant prick. Much as your wife was. He did everything to her that he did to your wife. She is married to a wonderful young man. But she was never exposed to the shitty side of this world. She succumbed relatively easily. It only took about 2 months.

"He was a county commissioner in Clark County, and your 'friend', J. D. Thornton, wanted a variance to a construction permit. Kevin was the swing vote, and he is scrupulous. He refused to issue it. Thornton had Voisin record everything and sent Kevin the c/d's. He was devastated.

"So 'MR. THORNTON' had his 'pig' target Kevin's wife. Neither of them realized who she was, as far as whose daughter she was. They were trying to start a family and she was not on any kind of birth control.

"She wound up pregnant, and she is 4 months along. When she found out, she was fairly sure it was Voisin's. She was devastated. She attempted suicide. Luckily, she was found and rushed to the hospital. They saved her life. Her suicide note confessed to everything, said she was embarrassed and that she would not hurt him any further. She told him how sorry she was and she would never hurt him again. Then she said again how much she loved him, and told him goodbye.

"She is now in a psychiatric hospital outside Las Vegas. She is undergoing counseling and psychiatric care. She also has 24-hour armed security.

"When Kevin found out, he turned to the State Police and threw the two of them under the bus. They are facing prosecution and prison time. Kevin resigned and lives with Madeline in the hospital. He is a good man. I am proud to have him as my son-in-law. My sons think the world of him.

"They got Maddy into the hospital and while they were nursing her back to health, they did a paternity test.

"Abortion is out of the question for us.

"But God must like us. The baby is Kevin's."

Jeremy returned with my tea and coffee for his father. He had a Dr. Pepper.

Kids.

He had no sooner sat down when the doors flew open and in strode the Celtic Warrior Queen. She was 5 ft. 9 in. tall, long red hair down to her waist, a beautiful figure carried on killer legs. Deep brown eyes. In spite of her age, she was stunning.

Salvatore stood, and for the first time since starting his tale, he beamed.

"My love," was all he said.

She strode to his desk, took his hand, and kissed him with everything in her being. Then she turned and looked at me.

If looks could kill.......

"Is this the one?" she said, never taking her eyes off me. I had risen and faced her.

'Maybe SHE'S going to kill me' I thought.

"Kathleen," said Mr. Raguso, "May I introduce Mr. Roger Butler."

The smoldering look burned my soul, but I didn't flinch. (much)

She came closer. "Thank you, Mr. Butler." She took my cheek in her hands and kissed me; almost as good as her husband got. "I am sorry for your losses. You have our sympathies."

'WOW!' I thought.

She backed up and went to Mr. Raguso's right side. She lounged against his leather chair.

"Mr. Butler, this is my wife, Kathleen O'Shaughnessy Raguso."

"Hi, mom", said Jeremy.

"Hello, sweetheart," she smiled at her son.

O.K., I need a scorecard. Too many players.

"Alright, where was I before the interruption?" His wife punched his shoulder, and Jeremy covered his mouth and laughed.

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Chapter 5

"AHH, yes. We would like to aid you in the rest of your quest for justice. With our 'planning expertise' we can minimize the exposure. What say you?"

"How do you know what I have in mind?" I asked.

Hell, even I don't know what I had in mind.

"What do you have in mind for your little 'souvenirs'?" He gestured to the Zip-loc bags. His wife followed his gesture, and her eyes widened and her mouth tightened. She looked back at me.

"Nicely played, Mr. Butler."

"Well, I have a shipping label with my ex-wife's address, and a return address label with shit-for- brain's address. I was going to pack them in dry ice, and send them to her with this note."

His wife took my note and read it. She smiled maliciously.

"You realize this may push her over the edge??"

I fixed her with my best don't give a shit look.

"She fought the divorce. But the fucks sent me their last c/d.

"The day I had her take the kids to her parents, so we could 'talk', I told her it was over and got her to admit everything. I told her to break it off. She went and changed her clothes, and told me she was going out to spend time with the kids. The way she was dressed, we both knew she was going to her lover's house. I knew then our marriage was over."

"She didn't come back 'till the next morning-LATE."

"When I filed, she fought it. She disappeared for three weeks. She came here, trying to get him to take her back. He blew her off, even when she offered to leave me to be with him. He didn't want anything to do with the kids. She offered to leave her kids just to be with him.

"Do you think I care about 'pushing her over the edge'? FUCK HER!!"

Mrs. Raguso nodded and said, "Leave them with us. We'll take care of it."

Mr. Raguso agreed. "Give it a week or so. Then we'll send them. Wait until Jeremy contacts you, then we will wrap it up. Don't go getting nervous." He leaned forward over his desk.

"If this was the last generation, I'd have both of them splattered all over the Bellagio's courtyard as a warning. But we are 95% legit now, thanks to my wife's good influences. So they are just going to 'disappear'. That will take care of everything. I guarantee you will be in on the end. What do you say?"

I figured I had nothing to lose. Voisin is already dead, and it appears that J.D. would be out of business and in jail soon.

(NOT QUITE.)

So I left the labels and the articles with them. Salvatore thanked me, and he said it would soon be over. Jeremy gave me a ride back to my motel.

I packed what little clothes I had brought, and he took to me to McCarran International Airport. I caught a return flight to Austin and got on with my life.

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Chapter 6

Three weeks later, Helen's doorbell rang.

She had just gotten the kids off to school and had started on her first glass of wine. She was an emotional wreck. Her marriage was over, her life was ruined, she was constantly drunk and her mind was always running off on tangents.

She opened the door and on her doorstep was a package, with shipping labels on it and two address labels. She looked around and didn't see anything, or anyone. She picked up the box.

"Well, it's my address alright, but I didn't........." She gasped.

"OH, MY GOD, IT'S DON'S ADDRESS!!"

She sagged against the door frame and started to babble. "What did he send me? What does he want? Has he had a change of heart? Does he want to see me?" She took the box, slammed the door, and went to the kitchen. She got a knife and slit open the box.

There were several layers of insulating material and some packets of dry ice bags. On top of everything, there was a folded piece of note paper. She picked up the note, unfolded it, and read,"These belong to YOU."

She put the note down and pulled out the insulation. She reached in and grabbed the plastic bags and pulled them out........ and the soul-wrenching shriek that filled the house was horrible to hear. She fell to the floor screaming and moaning, but she couldn't let go of the plastic bag containing her lover's severed genitalia.

Finally, after an hour, something in her mind snapped and her eyes took on a catatonic look. She was foaming at the mouth and dragged herself up. She saw the glass of wine and finished it, then threw the glass into the sink. She went upstairs and grabbed a bottle of sleeping pills, all the while mumbling, "I'm coming, I'm coming."

She went downstairs, grabbed her purse, the newly opened bottle of wine, and the knife, and went out the front door, leaving it open behind herself. She got in her car and drove off.

Jeremy watched from down the block and after she left, went to the house, entered, and grabbed up the box, papers, and the severed human genitalia. He looked around, sighed, and left, closing the door behind him.

Helen drove to Motel 6 and got a room, paying cash and showing her driver's license. She went to the room and carried her meager possessions into it. She put the 'Do Not Disturb' placard on the knob, locked the door, and put the chain on. She turned to the bed and stripped her clothes off, leaving on only the black thong he liked so much. She hadn't changed it in over two months.

She went into the bathroom and ran the tub, letting the warm water wash over her hands and her arms. She opened the bottle of pills and swallowed all of them. She upended the wine bottle and emptied it, spilling some of it all over her impressive naked breasts.

She laid down in the water and grabbed the knife, laying both wrists open numerous times letting them lay on her chest.