by A. M. Wilson
Not physical pain. I want to scream at her. “The psychological mind-fuck of being here and inflicting damage on another person isn’t exactly scot-free, you psychopathic bitch.”
Bolt raises a thin brow. “I’ll take that into consideration.”
I ball my hands into fists to keep from lunging at her. “Yeah, you fucking do that. Take into consideration that I won’t touch her again.”
“Your fight is cute, but you seem to forget you don’t have any power here.”
My shoulders heave with restrained breaths in lieu of a response. I’m only going to make things worse, but I’m beyond caring.
“Do your worst.”
“Reece, no,” Dani cries. In her rush to get to me, she kicks the now empty tray across the room. Her chest hits my side, and I immediately lift my arm to pull her against my naked torso. I hold her tight against me. She wraps her arms around me and clings to me in a way I haven’t felt for twenty years. I relish it, knowing it damn well may be the last time.
Bolt’s chuckle fills me with revulsion. “Don’t you know by now that I don’t get my hands dirty? It won’t be me doing my worst. The cunt will do it for me.”
Dani buries her face in my shoulder as her body bucks with a silent sob.
“It’s okay,” I mutter beneath my breath, only for her ears. “It’s okay. I can take it.”
Bolt lifts the duffel from her shoulder and throws it across the room. The bag lands perfectly at our knees.
“Lay on your stomach facing the pipe. Princess, grab the knife and handcuffs, then cuff him like last time.”
I plant a swift kiss on the side of Dani’s head. The beard on my cheeks entrap strands of her hair that tickle my nose. As I extract her arms and take the position, a memory floods forward of lying together on her childhood bed. I used to enjoy the feeling of her soft hair trailing over my chest as she rose above me.
I stretch out my long torso and grip the pole with both hands. Dani shuffles forward on her knees. A pair of handcuffs gripped tightly in one hand and a sharp-looking hunting knife in the other.
“Do it,” I demand. My bravado falls short by the shaking of my arms. “Cuff me quick.”
Dani sets the knife by her hip and leans over me to do as asked. Just like all those years ago, her strands hit the naked skin of my back and turns my tremor of fear into one much more pleasant.
“Whatever she tells you to do, you have to do it,” I mutter beneath my breath.
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Listen to me,” I rasp. “Whatever it is, do it quick. Block out your mind. The faster you do as she wants, the quicker it’s over. For both of us.” I squeeze my eyes shut as another frisson of fear courses through me, and I focus on the feel of her slim fingers on my wrist as she snaps the second cuff into place.
Our whispered words are interrupted as the space around us floods with light. Bolt repositions her lamp so the four canisters point directly upon our mattress.
Dani snatches the knife from beside her and palms the handle with the blade facing outward toward Bolt. She stretches her body in front of mine as if she can protect me from what’s to come. I swear I hear her snarl beneath her breath.
“Your relationship has developed quite nicely here. I thought since the pretty one permanently marked you, it’s only fair you do the same to him.”
“What do you want me to do?” Dani states her question flatly.
“Tattoo him with your name. Nice and big. Don’t fuck it up, either. I want it to look pretty when you’re finished.”
“Do it, Dani,” I encourage through a clenched jaw, already sweating from the heat of the added overhead lights.
I feel her turn into me at my hip and move the blade over my back. She rests the tip near the start of my left shoulder blade. “I can’t.”
“You have to.”
“Press harder than that, princess. I gutted your friend Bryan with that knife in one fell swoop.”
Fuck. Dani retches.
“What?” Her voice shakes with the question.
“Don’t listen to her, Dani. Just do it.” I turn my head back to catch her eye. She looks down on me with devastation written on her face.
“He had a family. Sisters.” Her gaze moves back to Bolt. This is the game she plays. This is her psychological torture. “Why would you do that?”
Bolt shrugs. “For fun.”
“Look at me,” I demand. “Don’t fucking look at her. Look at me.”
Her agonized stare flits back to me. I hold it and tuck the broken pieces inside me.
“Do it. Don’t listen to her. Just begin.”
“Reece… I…”
“Don’t drag this out. Fucking cut me!” I order harshly.
With a pained cry, she turns swiftly and swipes the knife deeply across my shoulder. It feels like she cuts to the bone. White-hot fire ignites and spreads. The feeling of skin tearing makes me retch as I brace and lock down my own shout of agony. I clench my jaw and bury my face into the mattress to stifle the sound.
“Very nice,” Bolt coos. “Good size too.”
“Reece?” Dani’s breathless voice sounds a million miles away through the ringing in my ears.
“Keep going. Don’t stop,” I bite out.
We’re both panting by the time she rounds out the belly of the letter D.
Bolt’s commentary makes it hard to focus on keeping my shit locked up as she remarks on the work so far.
“Be sure to save room. None of this ‘Dani’ shit. You can spell your full name.”
Another curve and line complete the lowercase A. I grit my teeth and grind my molars as sweat dampens my brow. A rivulet of warm blood rolls slowly down my side.
“I can’t do anymore, Reece. I can’t.” The knife suddenly pulls away.
“You can. Tell me what the D means.”
“What?”
“The D. What does it stand for?” I bite out. The pain lingers like a dull throb.
“I don’t know. I can’t think!”
I turn my head to the left, away from Bolt’s prying eyes, and find Dani out of the edge of my sight. “To me, the D means dancing with you at Friday night dances after the home football games.”
Her breath catches.
“Now tell me what the A means.” I clench my hands around the pole for support.
“Um. The A means accidentally rear-ending the school principal when we were trying to cut class together.”
My head falls heavily back to the mattress. “I remember. He happened to be leaving for a doctor’s appointment at the same time.”
Dani’s fortifying exhale seems to settle us both. I clench my jaw as I wait. The tip of the knife rests against my skin near my spine, ready to carve the next letter in a blazing trail.
“The N is for…” She starts cutting as she speaks. “Never being the one to hang up the phone first.”
“Such a… silly… game,” I pant. “Mnph. Fuck.” I can’t help but groan as the pain returns hot and furious.
She continues without pause, using our little game to push herself through. I welcome the distraction as I brace for the next three letters.
“I is for instalove. Because I knew the moment I saw you that I wanted to be your girlfriend.”
“C is… for… courage. I’ve never known… ahhh… anyone more brave than you.” My shoulders move with the force of my breaths, and tears leak from my eyes. I’m powerless to control them. Instead, I squeeze my eyes shut and let the onslaught of memories distract me from the overwhelming pain and flayed skin. Dizziness tilts the room left and right even with my eyes closed and blackspots swirl in my vision.
Dani slices through the second letter A deftly. “This A is for always. Because I will always feel this way about you.”
I can’t hold back the surge of vomit. I thrust myself as close to the edge of the mattress as I can get as I purge the hot bile from my empty stomach. My entire body locks tight as I shake uncontrollably.
“You
two are sickeningly sweet,” Bolt mutters. I follow the sounds of her to the other side of the room. I can’t open my eyes without feeling nauseated.
Something thuds on the mattress beside us. “Kick the knife over here, nice and slow. Then clean him up. I guess we’re done. For today.”
I hear the knife clatter across the floor.
“How much longer are you going to do this to us?” Dani asks.
A menacing pause follows. Or maybe I’m floating in and out of consciousness. I almost think I missed her response until the words nearly make me vomit again.
“I’m not sure. I’ve never had someone make it past day thirty.”
“You’ve done this before,” Dani whispers.
“I’m an entrepreneur. Lady boss and all that.” Her giggle follows her from the room.
22
Bolt
The door slams against the wall as I walk into my computer room. Tossing both of the remotes on the desk, I take a seat and swivel it toward the high-tech computer I’ve been using. I ignore the first screen, and my greedy eyes are drawn like a moth to a flame to the one that shows pretty boy and princess.
As much as I love being in the room with them when they’re forced to do such wicked things, I enjoy watching them from my computer more. Both try to keep a brave front when I’m in the same room. That façade drops the minute I walk out, and their real feelings come out.
Despair.
Hopelessness.
Fear.
All three send fire through my veins.
My eyes zero in on the monitor, seeing princess trying her best to comfort pretty boy, and I realize these two have come as close as I’ve gotten to reliving the exhilarating high I got with my first kill many years ago. Sweet, sweet pleasure oozes from my pores as I watch them. I don’t know what it is about the pair that makes them different.
I’ve never had sex, and I’ve never had the desire to. Sexual arousal is a wasted feeling that makes people stupid. I honestly think I was born without that emotion. The rush I get from hurting people goes much deeper than anything physical.
My attention focuses back on the monitor, and a low laugh erupts from my throat when the princess finally finds the key to the handcuffs in the bag I purposely left in the room. I knew it would take her a while to locate them, which left poor little pretty boy bound to the pipe.
She crawls back on the mattress and deftly unlocks the cuffs. The minute he’s released, pretty boy falls to his side. His back isn’t facing the camera, but even so, I see in my mind’s eye the scrawled letters carved into his back. Not that it would happen, but if by some chance they managed to survive long enough to get free, there will be no escaping the memories of what took place in the basement. These toys will forever remember me and the pain I forced them to inflict on each other.
I relax back in my chair and watch the two as they both try to comfort each other. What they don’t realize is there is no comfort to be given. By the time I get done with them, there will be nothing left except their rotting corpses.
They talk in voices too low for me to grasp what they’re saying. After a while, they both settle down with pretty boy still on his side and princess lying in front of him, her back to his chest. I zoom in on their faces as they close their eyes and drift off into sleep. A smirk curves my lips because I know I’m the monster even in their dreams.
Once neither has moved for fifteen minutes, I move my eyes to the second monitor on the desk, tapping the mouse to bring the screen to life. A live message board appears on one side, along with another camera angle of the rooms in the basement on the other side. Every few seconds, a new message pops up at the bottom of the message board. Some are compliments of the show they just received, and some are bids and what the bidder wants me to have pretty boy and princess do next.
TwistedPops56: Fuck me! Watching her face as she sliced his back open makes me want to find my own couple to play with!
Devilstwin: $20,000 to have him fuck her ass with a broken bottle.
Raw69Man: What I wouldn’t give to be there to lick up all that blood.
EvIlFuCkEr: Shit. Looks like I’ll be dipping into my daughter’s college fund. I want that bitch to fuck HIM in the ass with a broken bottle.
I read several more comments and requests before one piques my interest. I’ve made a shit ton of money from twisted people just like me. The average person doesn’t realize just how wicked the world really is. People will pay hundreds of thousands of dollars to see a woman get brutally raped or witness a man having his dick sawed off by a dull blade. I set no limits on my secret website. So long as they are willing to, I’ll have my victims do whatever in the fuck they want.
Excitement has me sitting forward in my chair. The sum of money for the next request is the largest one I’ve gotten since I started this little game of mine seven years ago. The request that comes with it isn’t something I’ve ever done before, but I think it’s perfect for my pretty boy and princess. The panic it’ll instill has sweat breaking out on my forehead and my pulse speeding up.
I’ll give my toys a day to recover while I gather the supplies I need and finalize the transaction.
I tap the first monitor, right over their sleeping forms, and grin evilly. “Tick tock, pretty boy. I’m coming for you.”
Princess jumps to her feet and situates herself in front of pretty boy the minute I open the door. If the move wasn’t so pathetic, I’d laugh. Even if the cunt was at full strength, I could easily take her. She may have taken hand-to-hand combat classes, something I learned in my research of her, but I learned to fight on the streets. It’s dirty, raw, and anything goes. A person who has no limits is someone a typical person doesn’t want to fuck with.
Her protective stance only lasts for a second before pretty boy gets to his own feet and pushes princess behind him.
“Aren’t you both just so fucking sweet trying to protect each other,” I say with a saccharine smile. “How’s your back, pretty boy?”
“Not that you give a fuck,” he grits out, “but I’ll live.”
I tip my head to the side and regard him. “That’s too bad. The replacement I have in mind would be perfect for your cunt.” I shrug. “Not to worry. There’s still time.”
He takes a step forward, his hands balled into fists. “You leave my brother and his family the hell alone!”
I let my grin slowly creep across my face. “Oh, it’s not him or his family you have to worry about.” I wink. “Not directly anyway.”
The fire in his eyes could scorch the earth. “Who in the hell are you talking about?”
Ignoring his question, I point the barrel of my gun at princess. “Over in the corner.”
Her eyes move to the corner before her hands slowly fall from the back of pretty boy’s arms. Stepping off the mattress, I keep her in my peripheral vision as she does as she’s told. My eyes stay on pretty boy.
Once she’s there, I order pretty boy, “Come with me.”
On one hand, my finger presses lightly against the trigger on my gun, while on the other, I set my thumb on the button of the collar control. I see the wheels turning in pretty boy’s head, and I know he’s dying to finish off what he tried to do over a week ago. Him getting his hands around my throat was a lucky break for him. That shit won’t happen again. I’ll blow both of their heads off before I let it.
Haltingly, he takes a step off the mattress, his body tight as if he’s ready to launch himself at me.
“I wouldn’t try it,” I warn him. “Her brains will be splattered all over the wall before you make it to me.”
His eyes narrow, like he’s weighing his options, before he makes a wise choice. “Where are we going?”
“There’s a box outside the door. While I stand here and keep princess company, I want you to drag it in.”
“Why? What’s in the box?”
“Just go get the fucking thing before my trigger finger gets twitchy.”
I back up against the wall as he
approaches, keeping one eye on him as he walks out the door and the other on the corner where the princess is shifting from one foot to the other.
A moment later, pretty boy’s back appears as he drags in the box. Satisfied tingles raise goose bumps on my arms when I see the letters carved on his back.
He drops the end of the box with a loud clunk in the middle of the room.
“Open it,” I demand.
With a hate-filled glare, he lifts the lid. His eyes widen when he sees the spikes on the inside of the top.
“Now get inside.”
“What?” Princess screeches, taking two steps out of the corner. “No!”
“I don’t think so, cunt. Back in the corner or pretty boy will pay the price.” I hold the control up.
Sparks shoot out of her eyes, but she shows her intelligence when she moves back in place.
I switch my gaze back to pretty boy and lift a brow. “Would you rather I make her get in there?”
“No,” he growls.
I laugh. “Didn’t think so. Now get your ass in the box like a good boy so we can begin our game.”
“What happens when I do?”
“You’ll have to wait and see.” His eyes flicker over to the princess. “Don’t worry. Little princess is safe from me. For now,” I tack on the end.
“You touch a hair on her head, and the next time I get my hands around your neck, I won’t let go.”
“You’re so adorable when you’re being funny,” I say dryly, amused at his attempt at being tough.
His eyes don’t leave me as he lifts one foot into the box.
“Have you lost your mind, Reece?” Princess yells from her corner. “Don’t get in that box!”
“Hush, Dani,” he admonishes without taking his eyes off me. “Whatever in the fuck she has planned, let’s just get it over with.”
“I knew you were smart,” I say with a sinister smile.
He lifts his other leg over the edge.
“Goddammit, Reece!”
Turning his head, he looks at the princess. “It’ll be okay.”
“It doesn’t look okay from where I’m standing. Anything could happen once you’re in that box.”
