Page 77 of Depravity

I shake my head. No, I don’t want to. I don’t want…

Something hits me, something awful. It makes me crash to my knees, it makes my eyes stream, it makes my entire body lock up. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. I feel like every cell in my body has been set on fire.

It’s something around my neck, something horrific. I claw at it, no longer holding that knife. My nails dig into my skin, I scratch and rip and I scream too. I scream so loud.

And then it stops. Everything goes silent for a second.

“The more you disobey me, the higher the shock.” My husband states.

He holds out the remote, showing me where the slider is, how it’s not even halfway. If he keeps going, surely he’ll fry my insides?

I let out a whimper, feeling more helpless than ever.

“It’s you or them, Doll.” He says, “Either you get hurt, or they do.”

Why? Why does it have to be like this?

My head spins again and I swear I almost vomit. I feel so drunk, so horribly drunk.

He bends down, picking the dagger up and he places it into my hand, then he’s pushing me, forcing my body to move. With one quick slice, he slashes down the man’s arm.

Blood beads, it pulls along the wound as the man bites his lip to hide any sound.

“There,” Conrad says, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

I narrow my eyes, staring at the trail of blood trickling down his bicep. I don’t see the point to this, I don’t even understand why we’re here.

“Now you do it,” Conrad orders, “Repeat what I did.”

I open my mouth to argue and he holds the remote up, silently threatening me with it.

I don’t have any choice. I don’t…

I shut my eyes, lift my arm and move quickly, hoping that at least it will be over in one nasty, sharp action.

“And again,” Conrad barks, barely giving me a second to collect myself.

I hate him, I hate that he’s doing this. I hate that he’s forcing this. I don’t want to be whatever it is he’s turning me into.

My lip trembles. I whisper how sorry I am, and I slice again. A small slice, one that’s meant to appease.

“Deeper,” Conrad snaps.

Like fuck I will. I don’t look back, I just take the blade and make a snick, a tiny little cut on his thigh.

Conrad snarls, grabbing hold of me, grabbing my wrist while his other hand wraps around my throat, pinning my head back against his chest. “When I tell you to do something you will do it, do you hear me?” He growls into my ear.

“I can’t,” I sob. I can’t do this. He can hurt me all he wants, but I can’t be this person.

He snarls again, taking my hand and he starts cutting, slicing, hacking at the man who’s now no longer hiding his pain. A man who’s howling, who’s holding his hands up like he’s begging for mercy.

It’s like Conrad turns into a monster, more of a monster as he shoves me aside. He shoves me hard and then he’s pinning theman down as he unleashes all of his fury, his anger, every piece of his blackened soul. Blood sprays out, bits of flesh land on me and I scream, trying to move away. Only he grabs me, he shoves my face right into the mess.

“You will stay.” He spits. “You will stay right there.”

The fury in his eyes, the hate, fills me with more fear than I thought possible. I’m paralysed, petrified.

He turns back, hacking, cutting off one nipple and then the other.

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