Capítulo 164: Punishment
"-do either of you feel any remorse for what you have done!?"
Saint James does his best to try and spit at Afton, but the spittle doesn't travel far enough to hit him.
"Please, please, please DON'T KILL ME! I PROMISE I'LL DO BETTER! PLEASE!"
Afton just shakes his head, "I'd apologise for this, but then I'd be lying." he states as he picks up one of the ropes attached to Saint James lower half. It's tied tightly around his waist while his upper body is completely secured to the lampost.
He ties the length of rope around the back of Dirt-Bird and starts it up, "This won't amount to the same pain you've inflicted on others, but its enough for you to understand what you've done." he states as he starts slowly accelerating Dirt-Bird in the opposite direction, the rope immediately being pulled taut.
Saint James only now seemed to realise what was happening, he grunts in pain as he continues cursing at Afton, though he quietens down as each curse causes the bike's wheels to churn just a little bit harder.
The crowd watches with rapt attention as the tug of war between Saint James's lower and upper body progress. Most had never even seen a working vehicle before this, let alone seeing it used as a torture device.
Afton continues slowly adding pressure until Saint James is screaming in agony, with one last twist of the accelerator a crack rings through the area, this sound is followed by tearing.
The crack had been Saint James's spine dislocating, his upper body finally losing the tug of war. The rope was so tight that it bored into the man's sides as flesh began tearing.
Soon enough, Afton's bike was moving forwards, pulling along with it Saint James's lower half. Blood and other fluids pool underneath him onto the road as his legs are dragged away from his body. A large portion of his spine and other vital organs are dragged with them, the man would definitely die within a few seconds.
Afton stops the vehicle and walks over to Saint James, sitting on his heels next to him. "Bad luck you sick bastard, maybe in your next life you won't run into me again. Or maybe you could avoid all of this by being a decent human being.
Saint James isn't even strong enough to curse Afton one last time before the light in his eyes fade. Afton didn't pity the man who'd eventually have to clean this body up, because he certainly wasn't going to do it.
[Scare a humanoid shitless. 50/50]
[Perk unlocked! : Unnerving Presence]
[Unnerving Presence] : Enemies are more likely to fear you, chance for enemies to flee at the sight of you.
Afton raises a brow at the notification, only then turning around to notice the horrified looks on most of the crowd. Yeah, he'd forgotten that while most of them had experienced hardships, few had truly seen pure unadulterated violence and gore.
Though, how often would you see a man literally torn in half? If Afton wasn't currently being run by adrenaline, rage, and guilt at not being able to save those that'd been kidnapped he'd probably have vomited by now.
The new Perk did return some composure to himself, he looked over it and nodded. Inspiring fear in his enemies was what he wanted. He only hoped it wouldn't extend to potential friends and allies as well.
Shaking his head, he looks over to Dermot who seems to have pissed his pants. "So Dermot, you're next?"
"NOOO! PLEASE! JUST SHOOT ME! DON'T DO ME LIKE THAT!" he screams in terror as Afton approaches.
Afton lowers himself to Dermots eye level and shrugs, "Stop screaming. This is your punishment so take it like a man... Even if your cock and the rest of your lower body is about to be removed..." Afton shakes his head, "Youknow, I'm slightly less angry after killing your partner"
"-Then you'll let me liv-"
Afton cuts him off, "But I'm still FUCKING PISSED!" he abruptly stands up, picking up the rope and tying the new one onto Dirt-Bird before turning to the crowd. "THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS TO SLAVERS, PEDOPHILES, AND MURDERERS UNDER MY WATCH!" he shouts, causing the crowd to tremble as he hops onto Dirt-Bird.
Dermot continues to beg for his life as Afton starts up the engine and starts accelerating. Though, as Dermot wasn't as disgusting as Saint James, he decides to get this over with quickly.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" he screams as Dirt-Bird brutally pulled his body apart. His organs making contact with the fresh air as blood pools beneath him.
Afton stops Dirt-Bird and looks back at Dermot, the man's lifeless eyes staring back at him.
[Due to your brutal actions before a large group of people, you've been given a title! : Executioner of the Wastes]
[Titles are earned by inspiring fear, confidence, happiness, or any other emotion in a large group of people. Each has effects depending on what they were originally earned for.]
[Executioner of the Wastes] : Fame increases by 100% for actions committed in the name of justice.
Afton was surprised to see this, titles weren't a thing in Fallout 3 and he'd never heard about such a mechanic in any of the future games... Perhaps it just wasn't mentioned?... Regardless, this only meant that he could gain further power by becoming notorious at something.
Back in Novac people called him the fastest draw in the Mojave, but perhaps it wasn't specific enough to gain a title? Or maybe he needed a large enough group of people to witness it in action? Shaking his head, he could figure this out later.
He stands back on Dirt-Bird to address the crowd, "Let this be known, any rapist, murderers, slavers, or pedophiles will receive the same fate as these two!" he states simply before sitting on Dirt-Bird and looking at Karl and Boone. "Too much?"
Karl shrugs, "Nah, those fuckers deserved it."
Boone nods in agreement, he wasn't one for mercy, and seeing someone who entirely went against his principles get brutally executed wasn't the worst thing.
REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES 
Niggross
Niggross Ya, integrating a new mechanic into the system, Titles. Hope you guys liked the chap, if I missed anything please let me know.
If you like my content or want to read ahead please go to https://www.p.atreon.com/Nagross, I'd appreciate it.
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