Page 52 of Possess Us
‘I’m trying to free you, you fucking asshole of a demon! Stop making the monsters real!’
The doctor yells. I see him lunging after me again, with a crazed look in his eyes. He’s not holding back. He wants to slice me to fucking ribbons!
He misses me by an inch, my face narrowly avoiding the blade. But he delivers a firm punch to my gut, making me double over.
Then his foot slams into my face.
I fall, my head spinning. My vision blurred.
The next thing I know is I’m being dragged, limp and dizzy, across the floor by my wrist.
Another blink, and the man with the chest spreader is tossed off the table, and I’m lying in his place. The pooled blood he left behind is warm and thick as it coats my skin and seeps into my nurse's costume.
Another blink.
I’m strapped down.
When the world has stopped spinning, I look up. The nurse is filmingmenow. The doctor holds out his bloody hand.
‘Scalpel.’
That single word has me feral, screaming and tugging against my restraints with all my strength. They are as calm as could be. The nurse places the scalpel back in his hand, and he looks down at me.
‘You are sick, my dear. Diseased in the mind, body and soul. We can fix you.’ He holds the scalpel in his hand. ‘We just need to see your heart.’
I scream for my demons. For Lust and Pain. But they don’t come.
I watch his every move as much as possible, with the lights still distorting everything. This crazed doctor runs this house of horror. The demon made flesh.
‘Do you have a heart?’ he asks me, inspecting the sharpness of his knife. ‘Shall we see?’
He cuts open my dress, sliding his blade down the fabric, leaving me exposed. My bare breasts lay before all three of them, and I thrash against the restraints.
Another hand reaches out from behind me, his palm splayed as he gestures for the knife.
‘If she has a heart, Dr, I will be the one to find it.’
I look up. In the brief glimpses of light, I see the man… the monster.
‘Kai,’ I breathe.
But it’s not, is it. Kai is gone. His green eyes are now jet black with silver specks, like a clear night’s sky.
He takes the knife and looks down at me. His dark hair falls over his dark eyes. He leans over, lowering his face until he is nose to nose with me.
I get glimpses of him as the light continues to strobe.
He looks me deep in the eye, then looks down at my naked body. His skin is pale, and I quickly see that the scars and stitches are not drawn on. But real. Very real. He’s been cut or hacked up and stitched back together, like one of the many monsters I’ve seen tonight; his costume has become real.
The stitches go up the corners of his mouth. Along his neck as though his head had been reattached. His bare chest is covered in them, too. Deep scars and messy stitches cover him completely. He leans over me, his hand resting next to my head, and the scalpel pointed warningly at my face.
The screams in the speakers get louder. More real.
I try to sink into the table. Stupid. Solid steel doesn’t allow for much sinking.
‘So you’re my tribute. My willing victim of fear. My…’ He looks into my eyes and smiles. ‘Pretty Prey.’
He smiles. His mouth widens. His jaw dislocates.
