Is this the end, dear reader? For you, of course, not for me. For, last week I left you facing a truly awful scene. And when I say truly awful, I again mean for you because, for me, the excitement is about to begin. For, although I have shown you the knives, the circular saw and the wood-chipper, that doesn’t mean this is the fate I have chosen for you. Of course it could, but, then again, my torturer may decide on something completely different. I could even remove you from the situation completely, but, let’s face it, where’s the fun in that?
The fun for you, surely, is in not knowing when, or even if, I’ll remove you? The fun for me, obviously, is in the torture; is in the fear; is in the anticipation; is in the trepidation; and is in the pain I can create and make you feel…
So, I left you staring at what you believed to be a rather gruesome end for you and it still might be, except my mad doctor has been whining all week, as he’d really like to play with you first. He has promised me it will be worth it and, well, I told him to fill his boots. I’d say don’t worry, but…well…I wouldn’t be being honest then, would I?
Remember the scalpel? No? Oh well, you soon will. Enjoy.
You feel a scratch on your neck, followed by some pressure and then an acute burning sensation, which makes you cry out. Your vision starts to cloud and drool begins to form in the corners of your mouth. You feel your body go limp, like jelly; the only thing holding you upright being the restraints. Your eyelids close and you succumb to the darkness.
You blink rapidly and try and pull away from the harsh light, burning its mark into your corneas.
‘Ah, good, you’re awake. It’s better for you to be awake. For me, anyway.’ You hear him say. You try and speak, but you can’t. You have something stuffed into your mouth; something which tastes of a familiar smell – cloves.
‘I need you awake, dearie, but I need peace for my work,’ he says to you and pats you on the forehead. You try and pull away from him; his touch making you shudder, but you can’t. Once again, he has subdued you – head, wrists and ankles.
One thing is new though, you realise in horror, as he traces his finger along your torso, over your pubic area and down your left leg. You are naked; no clothes; no underwear; no shoes; nothing.
You try and cry out, forgetting your clove sodden gag, and almost swallow the cloth as you inhale. Your gag reflex kicks in as your body tries to clear the blockage in your throat and tears stream from the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision.
‘Now, now, dearie. I don’t want you dying on me. Not yet. It would spoil my fun,’ he says and plucks the rag from your mouth. You cough and gasp for air at the same time, exacerbating your coughing fit. He doesn’t offer you water; he doesn’t offer your assistance; he simply waits until you are calm again.
Barely have you brought your breathing back under control, than he shoves the cloth back in your mouth.
‘And now to begin,’ he says and your eyes widen at the sight of the raised scalpel, glinting in the glaring light.
You feel the incision start around your left nipple and you cry out, into the rag, and try and twist your body away from him; away from his scalpel; away from his torture, but you can’t.
All you can do is watch. You watch as he slowly cuts away and removes each of your nipples; you watch as a scowl spreads across his face; you watch as he turns and picks up a tub of white crystals and rubs a pinch into your flesh, where your nipples were. It is here you cease to watch. For tears fill your eyes and you howl against the pain, almost choking on the rag again. This time he doesn’t help you, though; this time he is focused on rubbing salt into your wounds.
You fight to cough the rag out of your throat as the nerve endings in your torso start to go numb. You feel him stop rubbing and you relax, but only for a moment; the moment it takes for him to pick up his scalpel and start working again.
You are crying now as you mentally follow the strokes of his scalpel; part of your brain curious to know what he is doing; part of your brain never wanting to know. You will your nerves to numb; you will your senses to shut down. Then it stops. You open your eyes and feel your face relax; you hadn’t even realised you were tensing it up.
You are starting to feel woozy and your un-severed nerve endings inform you that you are losing blood. This only serves to kick start your adrenalin and make your heart pump faster – fight or flight – which is not what you need.
You close your eyes and focus, intent on survival – your basic human instinct – and will your heart to slow down; will your body to respond. Just as you think you are taking control, you hear a switch being flicked and then a rasping noise – staccato – as though something is trying to start.
Your body responds before your brain. Adrenalin starts pumping again and your heart thuds in your chest. Something wet lands with a slap on your cheek. You open your eyes and stare straight up at the rotating blade of the circular saw.
Again, you try and pull away; try to curl up and make your body as small as possible; try to get out of the way of the saw. But you can’t, you are bound too tightly; yet still you try. It’s human nature.
A thousand thoughts are racing through your mind as he reaches up and drags the saw away from your head and down your body to your waist. Your gaze follows him and you cannot even contemplate what he is going to do, until he moves the saw to the left and then you know.
You go to ball you hand into a fist, but he stops you. How? By hammering a nail through the back of your hand into a block of wood you hadn’t noticed he’d put there. You cry out and start choking on your gag.
The trauma to your hand makes the muscles and tendons release and your fingers splay out. The choking means your attention is now elsewhere. That’s all he needs. He has you in position.
Before you can process what is happening, he pulls the saw down and very slowly, very carefully, he starts to cut through your fingers.
Your eyes roll back in your head and nausea sweeps through you. You open your mouth and gag as your body tries to expel the rag and the vomit that has been triggered. Black and white dots begin to form before your eyes and the sound of the saw takes on that hollowness that all things do just before you faint.
As the sounds in the room get further away and the white spiralling starts against the black background of your vision, you are vaguely aware that he has moved further down your body…….to your feet.
May fear protect you when the darkness comes.
Til next time.
Marie