CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I give him a moment to catch his breath while I get ready for the next part of the night. There are screams coming faintly through the wall from another room, and I smile softly. Someone else is having fun tonight.
He whimpers softly, and I glance up at him. He looks wretched.
Good.
He should pay for his actions, as was his request. He wanted the physical torture to match the torture of his soul, penance for losing the one he loved so much. There’s not much that matters in this life. Except that there are those of us who can complete the contracts. That is most important. Without people like us, these tortured souls would stain society with their toxicity. Take Boy, for example. He killed his sister. Who would want that walking around? Even if it was an accident, accidents can be prevented with some care and forethought. All he had to do was ensure his sister was buckled in. He was clearly buckled in, because he survived. Why couldn’t he extend the same courtesy and concern for safety to whatever his little sister’s name was.
I don’t really care, but he should. And I will make him care using the carefully selected methods that I have brought with me.
“Perhaps, because your sister will never walk this world again, I should give you the same gift,” I murmur. “The gift of losing control of your legs.”
I pick up the hammer once more. I could shatter his shins, make him feel immense pain without killing him. That is, after all, the goal. Pain without death, at least until the end.
Would I let him go? If he survived? Oh, but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t survive what I have in store for him.
He needs to think he will, though, so maybe I’ll call it a night.
I look at the hammer and smile.
Or not.
I walk over to him and raise the hammer, bringing it down on his shin, listening to the crunch of bone beneath it. I strike again and again, then go to the other leg and strike another three blows.
He cries out, begging me for mercy.
“Mercy?” I ask. “Mercy, when you couldn’t even take care of your little sister.”
“Please, just kill me already,” he moans. “Please, I can’t take it anymore.”
“No, I will not have mercy on you, Boy,” I say, looking at his stomach. “I will not bestow such a gift on you unless you survive until the end. In which case, yes, I will let you go. I will even help you if you survive, but you have to be resolute to survive. You have to want it more than anything. You have to want to live so much that no matter what I do to you, you will live.”
It’s true in a sense. If he did survive the end, I would help him. But I am confident he won’t. I am confident that he will simply expire beneath me.
No one has ever survived my punishment.
They come in seeking the sweet relief of death from whatever ails them, and I make their dreams come true. At much personal cost to myself at times. Supplies don’t come cheap, and I lose time to sleep.
I put the hammer back in its place and go to the chest of drawers, where I pull out a box of sterilized needles. I go over to the bottom of the bed and pull one out. I insert it into the bloody bed of the big toe where I ripped the nail out. The soft flesh must be tender because he tries to jerk as he moans out.
I move onto the next toe and the one after that. I do the other foot and then I start on his fingers. I insert the needles carefully as he squints up at me through the harsh light that is still blinding him.
I then go back to the bathroom and take a Bluetooth speaker out of my purse. I plug it into the wall and put a classical composition on loop. It’s cheery and sweet, something you could have done a jig to in the olden times.
“What… What is that?”
“Just something to help us with the sensory deprivation,” I explain. “I won’t be talking much in the coming days, so I wanted you to have something to listen to. Consider it a kindness.”
“It’s going to drive me insane,” he gasps out.
“Hopefully, but if you have the will to survive, then you will survive,” I say.
I start to pack up for the night and he moans some more words, but I ignore him. I wash my hands and put on my coat and purse, ready to brave the chilly night walk back. I remove the package on the bedside table and put it with the rest of my supplies. When I’m done, I’m going to pack all of this into the chest of drawers. I might need another chest if I’m not careful, because I’ve bought a lot of new items for this contract.
Still, it will always come in useful for the next time. There’s always someone looking to die. I look at Boy one last time before I exit, closing the door silently so he doesn’t know if I’ve left or not. I stand there for a moment, and I can hear him calling out to me.
I smirk as I walk downstairs and leave the building. I’m tempted to visit the crematorium just for the smell, but it’s late now, and I want to make sure Shiloh has at least practiced tonight. Otherwise, we’re going to have a problem. Like Boy, she only has three more days to complete the deed. If she doesn’t complete the task, I’m going to be very disappointed with her, and we don’t want that.
We don’t want that at all.