Page 13 of Detonation
You have no idea what’s in store for you.
Her scream rips across the dining hall as he stabs the glass in her chin in the same spot Lana's scar is. Her warm, scarlet blood drips down our hand as a deep rumbling laugh spills from our mouth. "We're just getting started, my love."
He grabs a fistful of her hair and drags her after us as we head to hissecondfavorite room.
The room that remains his favorite, filled with special instruments for Lana’s torture, is yet to be occupied. He hasn't brought anyone to it. That second night, when Sebastian asked him to bring his plaything there, he proclaimed it would only be christened by Lana’s blood.
I’ll kill us before he gets there.
The wooden door pushes open before us and the familiar, bloodstained slab comes into view, dead center of the room. Metal hooks are attached to the stone with shackles linked in. Dried blood crusts them, just like his table of knives.
He throws the girl to the slab, that sultry fire in her eyes gone now, replaced with fear as she takes in her surroundings.
I’m so sorry.
"Remove your clothing, down to your underwear, and get on the table. If you obey, I promise not to be too rough with you." The lie falls easily from his lips, coercing her the same way as the girls that came before.
She trembles, her eyes darting around, most likely trying to find an escape route. Upon finding none, her shoulders fall and, with shaking hands, she undresses herself. Defeated, she climbs onto the table on weakened legs, refusing to look up to meet our gaze.
Why doesn’t she fight?
My anger flares at her resignation to her impending death. No one deserves this.
Stop it, Ash.There's nothing I can do for her. I can't risk it.
Our body moves to stand between her legs, our hand brushing her red locks behind her ear. Our thumb trails down to her chin, smearing the blood that dripped from her chin across her jawline, all the way to her ear.
A low whimper comes from his victim as he gropes her breast, dipping our head down to lick the blood from her skin. He hums. "Not quite as sweet as my beloved's but not the worst I've tasted. You'll do nicely."
She’s already past the point where she can repress the trembling, her full body shaking with fear as he presses the heel of his hand into her chest, pushing her into the stone slab. When she’s sufficiently scared, he moves to cuff her ankles and wrists.
She stares up at the vaulted ceiling, a single tear escaping her, tracing down the side of her face and into her hair. "You don't have to do this."
Don't speak. You’ll only encourage him to break you.
A soft chuckle comes out of our mouth as we move to select the smallest blade on the side table. "Oh, but I do."
He walks towards her, lightly dragging the blunt end of the knife along her exposed flesh, stopping right above her pelvis. He twists the handle in his hand, dragging the sharp end against the lace material that barely covers her pussy.
He raises our gaze to her face. I know he's gauging how much it's going to take to break her.
Part of me wants to scream at her to fight. The other part wants to beg her to not try to be brave. It will only spur him into prolonging the inevitable.
She clenches her jaw as the tip of his knife stops at her thigh, slowly pressing in. Shutting her eyes tight, she grinds her teeth, suppressing the scream that wants to escape into a barely audible groan.
Let it out. It will only get worse if you don’t.
A small sigh escapes our mouth before he jams the knife into her thigh to the hilt. The scream rips from her throat and our lips twist into a smirk.
"There we go,” he says, a quiet satisfaction in his words. “I suppose I lied earlier when I said I wouldn't be too rough with you. It seems that you're going to need to be broken. What a pleasant surprise you turned out to be."
Tears stream freely down her face as small sobs wrack her body. "Why are you doing this to me?"
Gripping the hilt of the knife, he twists as she screams. "Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?"
I resist the urge to surge forward, to push him into acknowledging my existence, if only so that he can push me back into the black solitude so I don't have to bear witness to this anymore.
Fuck! I hate this motherfucker with every fiber of my being.
