Page 61 of His Favorite Color is Blood
“Fuck you,” Misha hissed and put his face against Grim’s stomach as the cries for help escalated, barking through the speakers.
[Language. You don’t want poor Denny to go through all this as well, do you? 0]
Grim exhaled and slowly turned his head toward the screen, finally noticing the yellow light on the webcam. Fucker had them figured out. Grim’s reflexes told him to maul the computer with bullets, take Misha, whether he liked it or not, and drive far, far away, where no one could find them. But he knew he couldn’t do that. This wouldn’t solve anything. Was he to run all his life because some freak sadist found the chase amusing? The guy didn’t understand whom he was dealing with. Yet another bloody animal who believed he was the top predator out there.
His thoughts froze when the hacksaw touched Misha’s shin, and a streak of blood slowly slid down the pale skin.
“Turn it off,” Misha whimpered, tears rolling down his cheeks and shaking underneath Grim’s arm. “I remember what you did.”
[So pretty when you cry. 0]
Grim exhaled and looked straight into the camera. “Don’t make this worse for yourself,” he said, fighting off the urge to just smash all the machinery with his bare hands. He couldn’t do that, not with Misha trembling so hard in his arms.
The young Misha on screen screamed all the way to the heavens once the hacksaw bit into his body and began a grueling ordeal. Misha clenched his fingers in Grim’s T-shirt.
[You don’t know who you are dealing with. 0]
[But I do have an offer that could save you both your skins. 0]
Grim smirked, even though he had a feeling it was more like a grimace than a smile, as he couldn’t look away from the man in white calmly sawing through Misha’s leg as the boy thrashed and screamed, delirious from the pain.
“What do you want?” Misha rasped, only glancing to the screen every now and then.
[You survived the amputation, survived the raid at the compound. I suppose even a cockroach deserves to get one more chance. 0]
Grim bit his tongue, not wanting to give Zero a hint at who he was dealing with, really. He might have foolishly revealed too much already. He took a deepbreath and gently petted Misha’s back. The sight of Misha’s lower leg breaking off and hanging on a bit of tissue made food rush up his throat. Only sheer willpower allowed him keep it down.
[You have access to dirt on me. I need dirt on you. There’s only so long I can depend on your conscience wanting to keep Denny alive. 0]
[I want a video of you and your new best friend killing someone. I don’t care who. Your faces need to be in the picture. No masks. 0]
[If you can get that for me, I’ll let you go. 0]
“What about Denny?” asked Grim in a tight voice.
[You can take him back. He’s just a safety measure for me. I can get another boy. 0]
The blood dripping from the raw stump on the screen had none of the appeal Grim’s usual victims had.
The younger Misha had passed out, and Grim was already grateful for that. In the video, the masked man was unstrapping his legs as blood slowly seeped down the table despite a tourniquet applied above the wound. It was sickening to watch, but maybe at least, they wouldn’t have to witness the other leg being taken.
“I’ll do it,” Misha uttered and only looked up to Grim for a second with his bloodshot eyes.
[Is that your phone? 0]
Grim’s phone rang once, sending Grim’s nerves into overdrive.
[Good. I’ll stay in touch. You have one week. 0]
All the windows on the screen closed.
Grim exhaled, staring back at Misha, then rushed forward, and pushed the computer off the desk: the box, the screen, the cam, and all. He hurled it to the floor with a scream of breaking plastic and shattering glass. And yet it wasn’t enough. He kicked the desk next and shoved it on top of the broken electronics.
“Fuck.”
Misha curled into a ball in his wheelchair, sobbing, and seeing him like this made Grim regret coming here. “This will never end,” he whined.
Grim’s natural reaction was to hug him, tell him it would be fine, but he would not do that here, not now.
