Page 153 of Driftwood Daffodil 3

Atlee didn’t say a word when I picked up a razor blade. He was too busy singingSunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbowswhile tracing Simon’s hairline.

Whatever fight was left in Simon’s body he channelled into closing his eyelids when I lowered the razor blade.

Not that it did him any good, but I couldn’t blame him for trying. There wasn’t much else he could do. His head was strapped down and immobilized and limbs were either broken or gone. Closing his eyes was the only defence he had. A defence that was quickly taken away with a speculum that Atlee had stolen from the ophthalmologist.

The first slice caused a clear fluid to ooze out as the roundness at the front of his eye deflated a bit. The liquid was thicker than water and warm to the touch. It made cutting deeper difficult. The razor blade kept slipping through my fingers.

Atlee cutting into his forehead wasn’t helping. Blood trickled down into where I was working, until I had to stop and wipe my hands off.

Simon screamed and wriggled as best he could. Neither of us stopped. We didn’t even pause. I was going to enjoy every last bit of his pain.

The next couple of cuts had a soft crunch, almost like someone was eating chips nearby. His eye spread open as Icontinued slicing through layer after layer. Then I got to the pupil and iris, which I plucked out and held in the air.

Simon’s iris wrapped around my finger like a wet tendon sliced off a steak.

“Damn,” Atlee looked up from his crouched position. “That’s fucked up.”

I rolled my eyes down to the scalp he had begun to tear free. “Really?”

“What?”

“You have a bloody mat of hair in your hand, and you think this is fucked up?”

“Hey, I have a thing with eyes, okay?”

That actually explained a lot. I’d seen Atlee do some pretty messed up shit, but never anything to eyes. In fact every time someone put drops in their eyes, he left the room.

“But you’re okay with this?”

“Oh, I ain’t watching you.” His lip curled. “I got my own shit to do.”

Atlee went back to the task at hand and continued singing his fucked up song.

That was when I realized how far I’d gone. I wasn’t the guy that tortured someone like this. I’d kill them for sure, but this was sadistic. The odd thing was, I didn’t care. I’d do it all again, for her. And I hadn’t spoken to her since that night. Nova called a couple of times. I didn’t answer.

I didn’t know how she was or what she was doing. I told myself that I was giving her time to grieve, but it was more than that. It was her and I, and the things that would happen to her if I was in her life. She was safer away from me, but I still wanted her. No, I needed her.

My phone vibrated with a text.

Nova: I’m at voodoo island. Please come and see me.

I stared down at my screen for a minute, desperately wanting to answer, but unable to make myself type in the words.

Giving up, I grabbed a cloth to wipe my hands and watched Atlee peel Simon’s scalp down his skull.

The question came out of my mouth before I could stop it. “Have you talked to Nova?”

He stopped and rolled his eyes up. “You haven’t called her yet?”

“No.”

“Why not? You know she’s worried about you.”

That was exactly why I couldn’t face her.

I shrugged. “I was busy.”

Yeah, he wasn’t buying that.

---