Marian #2
Drayton’s fist curled in, but I continued.
“I know you don’t believe me, and I don’t blame you, but there are recorded sessions of me stored in the attic as well.
They’re from my earliest years up until London.
My mom always had everything documented, whether that was her taking notes or storing away the footage from the cameras. I had sessions even after I left here.”
My lips twisted, and my eyes filled with tears.
“You went to her and asked her permission to marry me. Shortly after, she had a camera put in my room. She didn’t trust us, and she had good reason.
I wouldn’t give up and neither would you.
We loved each other, and she couldn’t stand it.
” My head lowered, even though I kept my stare on Drayton’s.
“All I’m saying is it might be worth looking into.
I mean, there has to be evidence somewhere. There has to be.”
“Why am I just hearing about this?”
My mouth parted, only to close. “I didn’t think it mattered. It doesn’t change anything. I just thought you should know.”
His face was hard as he looked towards the ground. Seconds passed. “A shot?”
“Yes.”
He spun, leaving me in the cold as he slammed the metal door behind him. When I heard it lock, I wasn’t sure what to feel. Should I have told him? Waited? Mentioned it at the very fucking beginning in the shower when he took off that mask?
There was no use beating myself up over it.
There might not even be evidence, but I prayed there was.
It was the only thing that could truly aid in my need to have Drayton love me again.
If he even could. There were moments I was sure I saw something resembling love.
I just had to keep going. Keep playing his game until he learned the truth, or there came a time where I could turn the tables.
Dammit.
I spun, taking back in the cart and Bastian. I didn’t want to go back to sawing. Just thinking about it brought the sensations back to my hands, and I couldn’t stand it.
I headed for the bottled water, taking a big drink. I was so dehydrated. I could feel it as my mouth soaked in every ounce. I couldn’t stop drinking until the bottle was nearly empty. Had I not spotted the saw on the ground, I might have not stopped drinking at all.
I had to get this over with. The faster I took Bastian apart, the faster I could get out of this room.
Dropping the bottle, I tried to clear my mind and not think of Bastian, but that had me coming back to Drayton. All I kept seeing was his expression in my head as he said that word. Shot. Had it been hope? Fear? Apprehension?
And what about Elec? Was informing and contacting him going to come back to haunt me?
I moved the chair over, stopping as I looked down at Bastian’s legs. I had to do this. It was one leg. One more limb to remove. If I could saw through the area above his knee, I could continue to the second row of the cart. That surely couldn’t be harder than this. It couldn’t be worse.
A sound left me as I took in his legs. They were together, tied at the ankle to the pole.
I took in the angle of the thick pole, shaking my head.
There wasn’t a lot of room. The space was small but not impossible.
I reached between his knees, trying to pull at his leg so that I could fit the handle behind and pull it through.
The action had Bastian groaning. His head lifted, falling almost just as fast.
“M-Mar-ian.”
“I didn’t answer. I couldn’t as I forced the handle through and around. Wasn’t there an easier way to do this? Couldn’t I just cut the muscle and use the damn saw for the bone like its intended purpose?
No. Drayton didn’t want me doing that. He wanted me and Bastian to suffer, and if I did this the easy way, he’d make me do something harder.
I had to do it right or there was no telling the consequences.
He might not let me leave at all. We had so much further to go before he softened towards me.
And I needed him to soften if I was going to have any say in our lives.
I let out a deep breath, pulling back the handles to remove the tension.
The pressure had Bastian’s head bobbing again.
My own head shook, and I clenched my jaw as I jerked the wire more towards me, only to pull it back the other way.
Bastian’s body jolted to awareness. A deafening yell exploded in the room as the wire tore its way through his flesh.
And I didn’t stop. His entire body started shaking so badly, and deep sounds were followed by heavy pants.
They collided, rearranging as I moved my arms faster, feeling his muscles giving way like butter.
It was nothing like the bone I’d gone through before.
And I had the motion down now. There was a relief in that, but not in the screams that were worming their way into my brain.
“Bitch! B-Bitch! Fuuuuck—ing Ahhhh!”
Pleading my name was gone as Bastian’s anger surged to the forefront. Despite how cold it was, sweat was starting to form over his face and chest.
“Look at me,” Bastian tried yelling. “Look. At. Me!”
I met his desperate stare, wishing I wouldn’t have.
I froze, watching as the tears in his round eyes spilled free as our gazes connected.
Bastian sobbed, and so did I. The room spun.
I suddenly couldn’t breathe. He was crying harder and screaming and whimpering through his pain.
When he gagged, I couldn’t stop my own. I was suddenly standing and spinning in a circle.
I wanted to run. I was so close to running.
Why couldn’t I breathe? I knew why. I had to focus.
I could do this. I truly didn’t have a choice.
If I didn’t step up and play this game, the Elders to our circle or corrupt part of the government my mom worked for would eat me alive.
No, it’d be worse than that. Death was certain, but after what?
Torture worse than this? Without Drayton, I was the enemy now.
My family, my last name, was the enemy. Ending the line with becoming a Pennington was the only thing saving me. But like this?
“M-Marian. Mon amour, please.” He switched to French. “I’m sorry. I swear, I’m sorry. Please. No more. End this. End me.”
I sobbed harder, answering him back in his language. “You know I can’t. You made those girls suffer. It’s your turn.”
“I never hurt you. I’d never hurt you!”
“That does not make it okay,” I yelled back, switching to English. “You paid to cover your abuse but wouldn’t pay to save my life. You didn’t even come to say goodbye.”
Bastian’s eyes rolled but he managed an aggravated sound. The anger was returning as his head lowered and his eyes cut up.
“Goodbye to what? To this? You g-gave me up to Drayton just as fast as I abandoned you.”
“Then we’re even and this means nothing.” I walked forward, forcing myself to sit. I grabbed the handles, meeting his eyes. “Our fate is what we make it. I’m here. You’re here. You hurt girls, and now I’m hurting you. Any last words before I finish this leg?”
“I came to Miami for you. I tried to make it right.”
“And when I needed you the most, you showed your true colors. These are mine.”
All I got was the continued glare as sweat began to drench and drip from his hair. He was barely holding on. Why couldn’t he pass out again? I wanted him dead so that I didn’t have to face him anymore. Maybe that was part of Drayton’s punishment for me as well.
I pulled the slack, glancing up to see Bastian squeeze his eyes shut.
I didn’t wait. I pulled one way, only to get into the rhythm of pulling back the other.
I kept the sawing fast, feeling myself hit bone within seconds.
The muscle was nothing to my perfecting art.
But with the bone came the louder screams. The agonizingly horrid ones that made the hair on my arms stand on end.
My skin prickled and on the third explosion of yells, Bastian’s head fell, and the room grew silent.
I kept going, working through the bone with a viciousness I couldn’t hold in.
I was angry. Terrified. Sick. I wanted it done.
“Come on. Come on!”
My arms were burning as I tried blocking out the blood and fragments that were spraying out.
I was throwing my weight behind each twist of my upper body.
My eyes were stuck in tunnel vision, and I kept holding my breath.
When the tension gave way into butter again, I was crying.
I could barely see as the limb pitch forward through my swift saws.
Sniffling, I cut through the muscle, slicing through the outer skin to detach the leg.
So much blood was pouring free. It was pooling below us, getting closer to the edge of the sweatpants.
I stood, lifting the leg and trying to wiggle it free from the rope it was tied to.
Lightheadedness had me reaching for the chair as I kept trying to remove the hemp from the top of his foot.
I jerked hard once. Twice. On the third tug, I flew back, catching myself.
The hand I’d cut off was sitting on the cart, and I placed the leg down next to it, not able to stop the heave that hit me hard.
I spun and a mix of water and bile shot from my mouth.
I crashed to my knees, holding to my stomach as overwhelming images of Bastian’s pleading eyes played back in my mind.
I tried catching my breath, using my free hand to hold myself up as I dug my fingers in the dirt and gravel.
I attempted to stop the gag that wanted to come, but it was impossible.
He deserved this. Had the roles been reversed, he would have killed me too. It was just part of who we were. Who we’d been raised to become. This weakness I was experiencing was a mindset from the shock. I was a shark. I was strong. No one was stronger than me.
I forced myself to stand, walking over to grab the water. I took a drink, sloshing and spitting the water out before I took another. My throat was on fire. I still felt nauseous, but I could feel that later. Right now, I just had to finish.
Heading to the cart, I lowered, pulling back the sheet on the middle rack. Another letter.
My hand was trembling as I brought it up, using the torches to read the words.
Marian,
The mind can be your friend or your enemy. I used to have such confidence. I knew what I wanted. Who I wanted. You stole all sense of self from me. You tainted and destroyed who I was. Now, you’ll give it back. Take his brain. You might as well have taken mine.
-Your Devil