Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Mikayla
Everyone left after Colt declared my impending death to the room.
Kind of a mood killer, if you ask me, but they’ve left me alone for a while now.
If silence is their latest form of torture, I have to say it’s remarkably effective.
The room I’m in is eerily quiet, save for the drip from a leaky pipe, and the sound of my heart beat.
Great, I’ll likely die a slow death from loneliness and dripping water torture, before they get around to the punching.
I have no clue how long I’ve been left to my thoughts, but their customer service is horrid. Would it kill someone to offer some water if they plan on keeping me around as an external punching bag?
Laying my head against the chair, I attempt to get whatever rest I can before they return. Which unfortunately for me, isn’t long enough. The thumping of footsteps echoes through the hall again, loud and boisterous enough you’d think hippos are prancing this way.
Right, back to torture time I guess.
The metal door creaks, the hinges squealing from the friction as Jack and another walk in. Both of their expressions are stoic, giving nothing away as to their plans, but I’ll be damned if I don’t get at least a half of a smile out of one of them before the days out.
Jack’s wearing a new ensemble, strutting around the room in a dark blue polo shirt and black slacks.
A stark change from the suit he was wearing earlier.
Now this outfit wouldn’t have given him away so much at the arena.
His friend is dressed much the same way, donning a black band tee and dark jeans.
Brown hair tied in a tight knot on the top of his head, and chocolate eyes that stare straight into my soul.
Must be casual Saturday at the office.
“Well, hello, fresh meat. My safe word is rainbow in case we get to the spanking portion of our evening. Although, you look more like a collar man to me. Am I right? Oooh, please tell me I’m right! I’ve got “collar kink” as a needed square on my kidnapper bingo card.”
The unknown man chuckles—I win—turning to look at Jack before leaning against the brick wall. Propping his foot against the side and crossing his arms, he glances at me with narrowed eyes.
“I like her. You sure boss said to give her a dirt nap? Can’t we play with this one a little bit?”
“Fuck off with that shit, Freddy. Her death has been ordered. Slow, painful, drawn out, and only once she begs for the release that death can bring her,” Jack chimes from beside me. A grin casting his face in an unrelenting evil.
New guy—Freddy—pushes himself off the wall and strides over. His arms dropping to his sides with thumbs hooked into the pockets of his jeans. Stopping just before my knees, he tilts his head to the side, staring at me like a museum piece he can’t quite figure out.
“Shame, really. Such a pretty face going to waste. I can think of much better things for that mouth to be doing other than being worm food,” he coos, pinching my cheeks like you would a small child.
Back behind me, metal clangs and something scrapes against the concrete floor. A sure sign that Jacky-boy is setting up his tinker tools.
“First dibs on the shiny metal ones,” I throw over my shoulder, eliciting a snarl from Jack and a huff of a laugh from Freddy. “Awe, Freddy-Bear has a soft spot for pretty ladies. Does that mean if I blink my eyelashes real nice, you’ll show me a good time.”
The movement is quick, much faster than I register as his hand reaches behind his back and brings his pistol forward.
Pointing it directly into my shoulder. Just as I think he’s going to fire, he flips the weapon and slams the butt of the handle into my knee.
I curl over, growling as I bite my lip to keep myself from shouting at the guy.
“From what I hear, you ain’t no lady, and you’re about to be fertilizer,” he sneers, the humor mask he’s been wearing this whole time, finally falling.
The torturer underneath has come out to play.
This is the man they bring in to break people, to make them shatter.
The one who enjoys pain, and thrives off invoking fear. I should be quaking in my booties.
Should, being the obvious key-word there.
However, this is not a movie, they are not comedy villains, and in this scene, the one they’ve captured happens to be even deadlier.
“Well, this is getting awkward. Question, can you even spell fertilizer? You know, I was a little behind in the third grade, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I have this wonderful tutor I can—”
“I suggest you shut your mouth and behave or I will let him kill you right here,” Jack interrupts, walking back into my field of view.
“Awe, Jacky-boy, we clearly haven’t been properly acquainted. Let me catch you up there, Pumpkin. I don’t follow the rules, I make them.”
Jack doesn’t seem as excited for introductions as I am, his grip on the blade he’s holding, tightening until his knuckles are blanched. He stalks forward until there’s mere inches between our faces. The cold dead irises of a man long gone, gaze into mine.
“You know,” I whisper, leaning forward slightly. “If you wanted a kiss, all ya had to do was ask, Jacky darlin’. Though, I’m not sure my boyfriends would be happy about it.”
The cold metal of his knife slides against the side of my face, dragging itself from my hairline to my jaw. The sting of splitting skin hits me all at once, but I keep my gaze steady and my lips tight. I won’t give them my screams, to allow them the satisfaction of seeing me break by their hand.
The knife continues its journey, carving marks through my stomach, back, arms, and thighs. Blood now stains every surface of my skin and clothes as it continues down, pooling on the floor below.
“Well, that was a hoot. What’s the next group activity?” I rasp through labored breaths.
“You just don’t know when to give up, do you, bitch?”
Freddy’s words come from somewhere in the corner, and by the sway in his tone I can tell he’s wondering just how deep the crazy runs.
Well, let me tell you, friend. It’s deep.
My new best friend steps forward this time, a smaller blade held between his lanky fingers. One that is made for marking rather than slicing. Thin, lightweight, and easy to fondle between your fingers like Freddy is doing.
“Awe, grower, not a shower?” I crack, which earns me a fist to the gut. Blood oozes from my lips as well as the various marks along my body.
You would think I’d have more of a survival instinct.
To stay tight-lipped and not egg them on…
but where’s the fun in that. These assholes tormented me for years, pushing every button and hitting all the switches, while I stayed silent and waited.
If I go down now, it’s not going to be without barbs on my tongue and snark in my tone.
Freddy must be having some sort of fun, as he uses his itty-bitty baby knife to slice a smiley face into my shoulder. Weirdly enough the tingling sensation that ping-pongs through my body, hits my pussy dead on and has it clenching in anticipation for more.
Really bitch? Now is kinda not a good time.
When he moves down, caressing the swell of my breasts, creating shallower, simpler marks across my chest, that same tingle hits again this time growing in strength.
Damn it.
“Careful there, Big Guy. Keep teasing me and I may just turn our room here into my own personal slip-n-slide,” I crack out with a scratch to my voice.
Freddy stops moving, whirling on me in the blink of an eye, and grabs for my face. His single meaty paw latches itself onto my jaw as he pulls it towards him.
“Hey, watch it!” I grunt, my cheeks squished into my teeth. “This ain’t a go-go-gadget extendable neck you’re pulling on here!”
A gruff laugh rumbles from Jack somewhere in the distant corner of the room and even with the dire situation in front of me, I can’t help but feel some sort of satisfaction at getting the big jerk to crack.
“You fucking, bitch! You’re getting on my last nerve with that smart mouth of yours. Be thankful you’re only receiving my blade, when I come next time I’ll look into putting those lips to better use.”
This time when he looks at me, there is no light behind his eyes. The depths only offer a cold detachment, unlike the fire that still sparks behind mine—hot and untamed.
Which is exactly the excuse I’m going to tell myself, when I look back and try to reason away my next action.
Before my brain has the chance to catch up, my body reacts, thrusting my head forward with a swift motion, spitting a mouthful of blood and saliva into his face. Freddy-boy flinches at the impact, his eyes closing while my bodily fluids drip down the bridge of his nose.
He doesn’t say anything, merely releases my chin and straightens himself.
Collecting the rag from the back pocket of his jeans, he wipes at his face and nods.
Now, for being a big dude, I never expected him to be able to move so quickly.
In a maneuver so fast I’m unable to brace myself, his fist makes contact with the side of my face, whipping my head to the side.
The chair collapses, falling over under the momentum and a shiver shoots through my spine as my body meets the cold floor. The concrete licks at my skin, though my arms and legs remain tied to the chair. My body awkwardly dangling against the ground.
This new position allows Frosty Freddy to practice his kicks, hitting my gut repeatedly with the force of a car crash. Everything I’ve ever eaten—along with all my internal organs more than likely—spew from between my lips. My body projectile vomiting my insides against the floor.
The rage behind the motion is undeniable and when stars begin to swarm through my vision, the darkness coming to claim me once again, a laugh escapes me. Unbridled and raw. My eyes are getting heavy, ready to close as Freddy ends his beat down.
He crouches low, getting close enough to make sure his words are for my ears only. “Have a good nap, Mi pequeno juguete. Because when you wake up, I’ll make sure you regret your existence. And that, is a promise.”
My eyelids fall to the sight of him hovering over me. A sinister grin plastered across his face and a maniacal laugh falling from his lips.
The story continues……