24690 (27 page)

Chapter 44

24690

Insanity had never been far away. It had always existed within me, lurking in the depths of my mind. Waiting for the right time to strike and take me over. It wasn’t about being strong enough to resist the urge to go mad, but being strong enough to come back after the craziness took over.

I knew I was at the pinnacle of survive or be forever gone. I could feel myself swaying along the edge of something so significant that I would have been naive not to fear it. I did. I knew there may not be any coming back this time.

“You fucking bitch. When I get free, I’m going to kill you.”

West tugged at the ropes I had binding him to the desk and I ignored the agonizing pain burning me as I kicked into his face as hard as I could. His body curled into itself and a growl left his bloody lips as he jerked roughly against the restraints.

“You’re not getting free, husband. You’re not even going to leave this room alive. I already told you that.” I twisted my knife back and forth in my hand, feeling the haze of my mind continually trying to take over. I could barely remember running to the room while he lay there unconscious. How I’d even remembered the rope in our closet was beyond me. My mind knew things, even if I couldn’t comprehend how.

I stepped forward, scanning over the desk. It was disheveled now. Papers were scattered all over the side and along the floor. Pen and pencils were lying along the top randomly. I stepped forward, grabbing a pair of scissors that rested close to the edge. When I walked around and lowered to face my attacker—my rapist—I couldn’t stop staring into his enraged eyes. I hated him so much that I was sure hate wasn’t even the emotion I harbored. He had done this to me. He turned me into what I had become. A monster. A sick deranged thing that dreamed of blood and torture.

“What the hell are you doing with those?”

“Hmm? Which one? The knife, or the scissors?”

“Either, you crazy bitch!”

A deep laugh left me. “I supposed I am crazy now. Did you know I see Bram?
I see him, husband.
He’s everywhere. At the ends of halls, standing over me in the middle of the night. I loved him so much. He’s angry at me. I suppose that’s because of you.”

“You’ve lost your fucking mind. Put that shit away and untie me. We’re even now. You’ve had your fun.”

My head shook. “Oh, no. The fun hasn’t even started. First, I’m going to rape you with these scissors, and then I’m going to skin off your face and make you look at it while I carve Bram’s name into every inch of your body. Can you feel the blade separating your skin from your muscle? Can you feel it,
baby
? Dear. Sweet. Husband of mine?”

“You’re sick. Fucking sick. God, why didn’t I see it before? You need help.”

“And I’m about to get it by hurting you. By skinning you, like you made me do to Julie.”

“But she was dead when you cut into her!”

“You won’t be.”

West thrashed while I took the scissors to the bottom of my nightgown. Each snip had him getting quieter as he watched. Back and forth my eyes went, from the lengthening white material, to the cautiousness he displayed.

“Open your mouth.”

“Fuck you. You want it opened, open it yourself.”

I lowered, not able to hold in my smile as I bunched the fabric in my palm. “If you insist, I will gladly open your mouth for you.” I put down the scissors, clutching to the handle of my knife while I moved my hand in closer. West’s stare stayed on my blade while he rocked his body back and forth on his stomach. When my hand lifted, I saw it.
Fear.
The sight masking his face left my hand rearing back and stabbing into the back of his shoulder.

“Fuck! You … cunt!”

I slammed the cloth into his mouth, using the other strip to tie around his head to secure it. The muffled, broken up moans and cries sent a flood of adrenaline through me. I pulled out my knife, wiping the blood along his cheek to clean it.

“Did you really think I’d let you keep hurting me? Did you think I’d let you sell off those children?” Flashes blinded me and I could so clearly feel the pressure of my blade slicing through Eli’s neck. “He told me he helped kill Bram. I can’t believe Eli thought I would let him live after that. We planned it together, you know—helping the children escape. It turned out so much better than I could have hoped. He was so happy to have set them free. I can still see his smile. But … he had no clue my loyalty to my master. My real master.” The darkness of the underground garage disappeared and I blinked, rapidly, bringing West’s glare into focus. “What was your part in Bram’s murder? Did you stab him, yourself?”

I held tighter to my knife, lowering to my hands and knees. When I dropped to rest on my forearms so I could be closer to his face, a deep sound left West. And again he fought against the ropes.

“No,” I said, trailing the flat end of the blade along his cheek. “You’re too much of a coward to have killed him.”

“Mmm-Mmm-Mmph.”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you. Were you saying something?”

I put my weight against his shoulder and the side of his head as I began slowly slicing the blade down around the top of his eyebrow. The yell was gargled and loud, vibrating me as I cut around, lowering a good two inches down below the side of his eye. “You let Billy do it, and then you murdered that guard to make yourself look like the hero. You … a hero.”

Again my mad laugh filled the room.

“My husband, always wanting to be in the spotlight. Wanting to be the leader, or the one everyone looks up to. Did Bram make you feel so inadequate that you had to have everything he did? That you had to kill him and take over his life so you could feel like you were worth something? I can see that.”  Concentration left me focusing as I flattened the blade and began sliding the tip under the skin to begin to separate it from the muscle.

Thrashing had the knife cutting across his cheek and I lifted enough to slap him. “Stay still or you’ll put out your eye. I want you to see what I’ve done when I’m finished.”

Yelling and a long broken up cry had me shaking my head as I stayed fixated on the skin. I moved back to the top of the eyebrow, keeping my hand steady while I made small flicking movements with my wrist. Within seconds, I was able to lift the top of the eyebrow. The scream that exploded from West was like heaven. It touched a part of my soul as I bit my bottom lip and stared down at him.

“How does that feel?” I put more of my weight on top of him, lifting the skin again. “Can you feel the cool air seeping through? Does it hurt? Burn?” I pulled down the gag, desperate to hear. “Can you feel the skin that’s still attached pulling when I lift? Do you still love me with my knife peeling back your face? Tell me you love me, now.”

“I swear ... torture … the fuck out of you.” I smiled, letting his threats urge me on. “When you’re dead, I’m going to fuck your corpse and tear you apart with my bare hands!”

“Oh yes. Fucking my corpse. Is that what you like? Was that what you were going to tell me the first night you raped my unresponsive body? Your secret,” I whispered.

“You just wait,” he panted. “You fucking wait, you stupid psycho cunt. You have no idea what I’m capable of. I’ll fuck you like I fucked those slaves I had to kill. And when I’m done, I’m going to piss all over your mutilated body before I turn that motherfucker into ashes.”

“We’ll see. I think you’re speaking out of anger. Perhaps you need a break from your face for a little while. Let’s move on to something else. We’ll get back to that after you’re drained from the blood loss. I do believe you’ll be a lot more compliant, then.” My knee came down on the wound of his shoulder while I leaned forward, pushing his pants mid-thigh.

West’s legs went wild. He tried drawing his knees to his chest, but the rope keeping them bound was fastened tightly to the leg of the heavy desk, as was the ropes to his hands. With the narrow distance between it and the bookshelf, he was blocked in. There was nowhere for him to move.

“I’m … going …
bitch
.”

“I’m about to show you a bitch. How do you think you’ll react, staring back at your own face? Do you think it’ll look the same when I’ve cut it off?”

“Ahh! Get the fuck off of me. Get! The fuck! Off!”

“Not yet. You haven’t endured my rape yet.”

“If you put those scissors anywhere near me … I swear I’ll …”

I grabbed the scissors, pausing to look at his panicked eyes. “You’ll what? What could you do that you haven’t already done? Kill me? Do you think I’m afraid of death? Death and I are secret lovers. We take turns fucking each other every chance we get. Today, it’s my turn to be on top.” My hand flattened on one side of his ass, separating him. No matter how much he tried to tighten the muscles or move, I kept a firm grip, seeing exactly where I needed. I drew back my hand, slamming the blade of scissors in West’s entrance.

No scream, just a guttural explosion of a deep groan as his large frame tensed in agonizing shock. I unlocked my fingers just in time for him to catch his breath and the real screams to make themselves known.

“Fuck! God. God!”

“There’s no God in Whitlock. Only the devil, and this one is of your creation. How may I be of assistance to you, husband? Would you like me to remove the scissors? I can put them back in a more comfort position for you. Here, let me try.”

“Get t-the fuck a-away from me.” West’s pale face was covered in sweat as he began to vomit.”

“But I hurt you. Let me make it better. I promise, this won’t hurt as much as the first time.” I grabbed the handle, sliding the blades out, only to thrust slowly back in. The sobs that came as I kept my leisurely pace had a grin permanently on my lips. I glanced over my shoulder at West, who kept trying to catch his breath through the fast, deep inhales. It was beautiful.
He was beautiful.

“I think you were right,” I said, pausing. Harder, I looked into his bloody face. Into the eyes that feared me. Something stirred within, sparking the emotion I held for him. It was a tugging. A deeper yearning I had tried to lock away before. I hadn’t wanted to experience it or know what it was. But now, in this moment, I suddenly understood why it was so easy to play the role of his loving wife. Why I could endure his love-making when he wasn’t drugging me or raping me. 

“Oh, husband.” I removed the scissors, turning to lower to his lips. West tried to jerk away from me, but he couldn’t move far. “Kiss me,” I whispered. “Kiss me while you cry so beautifully for me.”

“Stay away … no more.”

“Kiss me.”

“Fuck you!”

I sighed, pressing my lips into his. The moment our mouths touched, he drew back, slamming his head forward. Blood swept over my tongue and the insides of my cheeks. The pain sent my insanity reeling. I lifted, grabbing and clutching hard to my knife as I drew back and stabbed into his bicep.

“Ahh! Fucking … God! I swear to—”

I stuffed the material back in his mouth as he continued to yell into the fabric. I took in the volume, suddenly realizing I was forgetting a vital part of what I was doing. There was something …
important
. I stood, coming face to face with the one thing that was truly mine. The only thing that mattered to me anymore.
Yes.
This was what I needed. I pulled the black book free, watching as blood smeared over the pages while I flipped to the one that had been marked for my reading.

“Mm-mmmph.”

The words blurred before me and I blinked rapidly, scanning the poem as fast as I could, afraid someone would stop me like so many times before. Lyle had been adamant for me to read this particular one. Looking back, he seemed to have been trying to prepare me for something. Or at least make me aware. I could still hear his words so clearly …
When you get lonely, or times are hard, I want you to go somewhere where you’re alone and read this. There’s a particular poem he enjoyed in the middle. I marked the page for you. Read it and have hope. Hope, above all things.

Hope. Hope for …?

A tear fell as my heart squeezed to life, thumping and exploding into a fast rhythm. Bram was the only one who could make me feel anymore. And feel, I did. So much so that my legs almost gave out as I lowered to collapse next to West.

I took in the words again, letting my eyes rise to my husband. It was more of muse or note … and sloppily handwritten below another that was typed out.

Handwritten.

A loud bang filled the room and footsteps pounded toward me. I looked at the horror on the three guards’ faces, but turned back to West.

“Bram left us a little note, husband. I think you’re
really
going to want to hear this. You’re
all
going to want to hear.”

I started at the beginning once again. Reading each sentence loudly. My pulse was increasing by the second and emotions were flooding back in. But not from the punishment and hell I knew was about to happen to me. The
whiteout
was coming for me—the White Room. Hell would find me there. But even that I didn’t fear as much as the twisted versions of Bram that haunted my mind.

“For who am I, if not a man? I’ve asked myself that question a million times. The answer evades me like the damned. And I must be damned to have been placed in this hell that swallows me by the day. I once thought by discovering the truth of what I queried that it would set me free. But do cursed men ever find peace for their tainted souls?