Chapter 17
Ilie here, watching, and knowing there’s nothing I can do.
Tears fall down my cheeks, but I can’t control those either.
Reaching into a drawer attached to the table, I look to see what he has taken out.
My panic accelerates when I spot the silver speculum in his grip.
The pounding in my chest is so intense it feels like my heart is going to explode.
My breathing is audible as he stands, staring at me with that same wicked gleam in his eyes that makes me want to run.
How could I have chosen this man to help me with Sullivan?
I thought he could somehow make things better.
I went to a monster to save me from another monster. Maybe I am a lunatic.
“I knew the day I saw you, I’d have you like I wanted to. That was the day I knew your life would be mine. Mine to toy with, and mine to end. Don’t worry, Bianca. Today is not that day. I’m not done with you yet.”
He pushes the speculum inside me with one single thrust as I scream.
I cry, I beg for him to stop. The yelling is so loud in my head, but not audible.
If he could hear me, he’d know that I’m pleading for him to give me the other drugs that knock me out.
I don’t want to be awake for this. Pulling it out, he pushes it back inside me, fucking me with the hard piece of cold metal.
His movements are jabs, as if the entire goal is agonizing pain.
Dr. Martin keeps talking as he opens the speculum inside me, stretching me to the point it feels like I might rip wide open.
“The first time I killed a woman, it wasn’t intentional. It was a happy accident. I was fucking her, and my hand was around her throat.”
He smirks at me, as he’s clearly lost in the memory of his sadistic crime.
“I guess I got a little carried away. I didn’t stop when she died.
Do you know why? Her pussy felt even better after she was dead.
I bet yours will too. I suppose that’s why I drug you.
When you can’t move, I like it. You’re my perfect little fuck doll when you’re frozen in place, incapable of fighting me. ”
I can’t blink, or move my eyes, so I can’t see the dead bodies, but I can smell them. The scent of death permeates all around me. I never expected an asylum to be pleasant, but this surpasses even my worst expectations.
Lining his cock up with my ass, he smirks at me.
“Be a good girl and don’t move,” he taunts, knowing full well, I can’t possibly move.
He slams inside me with no lubricant, completely dry, and the pain burns through me, like he’s fucking me with a burning torch.
I can’t move, yet I can feel every thrust. Every touch.
Even his heavy breaths against my skin. Moving his hips back, he painfully pushes forward again, and I try to scream but can’t.
His grunts echo off the walls of the room as he comes.
Knowing his semen will be inside me, long after he leaves me alone, is almost as bad as what he’s doing to me.
The momentary relief, when he pulls out of me, and removes the speculum, is short-lived, when he flashes me that disgusting smile that causes shivers to roll down my spine.
“I’ll admit, Bianca. I have a slight foot fetish. And I saved something for you. We have to be quick, because your medication may wear off soon.”
He moves through the dead bodies and comes back, holding the lower part of a severed leg. It has pink toenails, and I can’t for the life of me figure out what he’s planning to do next.
Holding the severed leg, he moves the toes over my clit, and again, I try to close my eyes but can’t.
This man is sick. When he lines the toes up with my entrance, my bottom lip quivers, and I know the medication is wearing off.
His gaze is between my legs, so luckily he doesn’t notice.
I fight the bile rising in my throat as he pushes the foot inside me.
More tears fall, but he’s too focused on watching the dead limb tear me apart to see anything else.
Sensation begins to come back to my body, but I continue to pretend it hasn’t.
It takes everything I have to remain quiet, instead of screaming about what a monster he is.
He thrusts it so far inside me, it hits my cervix over and over again, and I can no longer take the pain.
It’s too much. I know I’m supposed to stay alive, but I can’t.
Everyone has a breaking point, and this is mine.
I don’t know if it’s an adrenaline spike from the panic surging through me or if it’s a last release of energy before I meet death, but I pull my leg back and slam it forward, my foot landing straight into his chest, knocking him onto his ass, and the dead limb lands behind him with a thud.
I’m aware the consequences will be severe, but at this moment, it’s worth it.
Nothing has ever felt better. I don’t want to be a victim.
I want to be strong like Heather, and kill every man that has ever dared to fucking touch me when I said no. If only Sullivan weren’t already dead.
He climbs to his feet, with an angry glare on his face that causes me to flinch, and move back as fast as I can with shaking limbs.
There’s nowhere to go. I’m trapped in this room with him, stuck like a caged animal, as he races to me, obvious fury in his expression.
Grabbing a syringe from his pocket, he holds it up for me to see.
“Maybe this time I should make sure you never wake up. Is that what you want? Are you really that fucking crazy?”
I shake my head frantically.
“No, please. I’m sorry. I’ll do anything you say.”
His stance relaxes, as his lips pull into a wicked smile that causes uneasiness to fill me all over again.
“Are you hungry?” He asks.
As much as I hate him, I’m suddenly grateful, because that’s probably the thing I need more than anything right now. Nourishment.
“Yes, I’m starving.”
It’s been somewhere around a week since I’ve eaten, and I would eat anything, even that weird breakfast mush.
I’m relieved when he grabs his pants from the floor and pulls them back on.
“I have dinner for you. Not that you deserve to eat after your stunt, but I’m in a giving mood.”
Dr. Martin walks past the hanging bodies that make me feel like I’m in a sick, twisted horror movie. He walks back to me with a plate in his hands. On top of it looks like some kind of bloody meat, and it’s repulsive, but I’m hungry. Off to the side is something else, but I can’t tell what it is.
I point to the other side of the plate.
“Is that chocolate pudding?”
The color is a lighter brown than I’ve seen it, resembling shit, but I’m so hungry that if he put something in it, I don’t even care. Although, if it’s actually human feces, I would probably change my mind about that.
He nods. “It is. You get your dessert after you eat your dinner.”
I look down at the chunk of meat as he sets it in front of me. I’m still naked. I didn’t bother asking if I could put clothes on, because I already know the answer. Even though the food looks gross, I’m starving, and I want to eat so badly.
My eyes go from the blood, and semen, coating my inner thighs, to the weird looking meat. It’s the size of a fist, even more bloody than my legs, and appears uncooked. Whatever this meat is, I’m clearly expected to eat it raw.
“What is it?”
He sits on the edge of the bed, with a slimy grin on his face that makes my rumbling stomach turn from hunger to disgust.
“If you want the pudding, you have to eat one of the meats. Do you remember Crystal?”
Glancing up at him, I say, “Yes, I don’t really know her, but I’ve seen her around.”
“Knew,” he corrects.
“This,” he says, pointing to the plate, “plus the leg, is all that’s left of her. So you get to choose your protein, Bianca. Heart or pussy lips?”
I place my hand over my mouth, and nearly gag, just from the thought of what he expects me to eat.
“Someone killed her?” I say against my palm.
He laughs. “I did. She was becoming a problem. I have a tendency to make those disappear.”
Dr. Martin stands, staring at me like he’s waiting for my decision. How can I possibly eat any part of a human being? I’m the person that feels bad eating animal meat. A person? How can I possibly do that?
“You have sixty seconds before I decide that you’ll be the meal, instead of choosing yours.”
Tears spring to my eyes as I stare at my options in disbelief.
Every time I think things are as bad as they’ll get, they get worse.
I used to think I was strong for enduring everything Sullivan did to me, but I’m not strong.
Not anymore. Now, I’m being forced to decide to eat a human, or die.
It’s pure insanity. I can’t even believe this is my current reality, yet it is.
“How would you kill me?”
I’m seriously considering letting him end my life, but I need to know how he would do it, before deciding.
He arches a brow. “You don’t want it to happen like that. I’ll put you in the basement with Darren. He’s our resident cannibal. Trust me, he would be only too pleased to torture you, and eat you alive. Bit by bit.”
“Alive?” I ask with a gasp, showing my horror.
His eyes trail my naked body as if he’s picturing it, and it causes chills to run down my skin, and bile to rise in my throat.
“Alive. Fresh meat is his favorite. He will cut you piece by piece, and eat you while your heart still beats in your chest. It will be pure agony, and I will fucking delight in watching you cry, knowing you could have prevented it. The heart tastes like pork, with the consistency of beef. The pussy lips, I’m not entirely sure about, but one thing I do know, Bianca, is that I’m running out of patience.
Ten seconds. Take a bite, or we’ll go to the basement with Darren. ”
With no choice but to eat one of these pieces of Crystal’s dead body, I pick up the heart with both hands, and sink my teeth into it.
Blood runs down my chin, to my chest, and he groans, like this is the hottest thing I could ever do.
I chew the tough meat with my eyes closed, and try not to notice the putrid smell.
“This will probably make you feel so much better. There’s a lot of iron in the heart. I expect a thank you.”
I wish someone would give me a knife, and five minutes with this sick son of a bitch. I always thought I’d be incapable of murder. Now, I know I was wrong.