We had an effective, if macabre, system in place. The five of us got in a line and proceeded to take turns picking a weapon from the pile, stabbing the murderer, stabbing the nurse, returning the bloodied blade to the crate, and getting back in line. Our assembly-line production allowed us to quickly expose the assortment of sharp instruments to the blood necessary to imbue them with the power to kill Lucifer’s Firstborn. For the first hundred stabs or so, I had to use my telekinesis to restrain our victims, but eventually the escape attempts tapered off. Instead, the nurse just tried running her mouth instead of running with her legs.
“Okay, so this bastard killed his family,” she complained. “But I was a freaking nurse! I gave people medicine! I helped old people poop! I assisted doctors and surgeons! I don’t deserve this!”
“Yeah, maybe not,” I said, pulling my knife from her thigh and plunging into the psycho killer’s abdomen. “But you must have done something bad or you wouldn’t have wound up here in the first place.”
“Oh, you know what, you’re right!” she said, feigning a sudden recollection. “I slept with a married doctor. One time! I’m not proud of it, but I don’t think it means I should get stabbed over and over. Once should be enough.”
“Then look at it this way,” I said. “You’re doing the same thing now that you did as a nurse. All these people in Hell are pretty bad off, sure, but if we don’t stop the guy that’s trying to take over, they’ll all be in even deeper shit. So by letting us stick you with knives a few hundred times, you’re really enabling us, the doctors, to more ably take care of the citizens of the underworld.”
She sat back and threw her hands up in resignation as Torvin slipped a dagger under her rib cage. “Oh, well, you know, just doing my duty,” she said sarcastically.
“Yeah, me too,” the child-killer piped up hopefully.
“Shut up, asshole, nobody cares about justifying this to you,” I snapped.
The other occupants of the waiting room looked on in mute horror.