Page 132 of Wanted
Kamila asked, “Do I have to ask?”
“No,” I responded, grinning at her father. I pulled out the knife I’d picked up from Kamila’s kitchen.
She gasped. “I chop my chicken with that!”
“I’ll get you a new one,” I promised.
“W-what do y-you want? I’ll g-give it t-to you. Any p-pussy you w-want… D-dick, too…” Aram whimpered.
Kamila snickered.
I sighed. “You don’t remember who I am, don’t you?”
He shook his head timidly. Veins threatened to burst. I could feel the adrenaline shooting through him.
“I’m one of the many children that were raped under your jurisdiction. They took me in broad daylight while I was on vacation with my family. My father’s job endangered me, but it wasn’t really his fault, was it? He was just a lawyer, doing his job. But your friends wanted revenge. It was a deliberate attack, and I wasn’t supposed to ever get out. I was supposed to die being mutilated by your people. It wasn’t your fault, you know? I don’t think you’re into kids. You just fucked up Kamila. That’s your vice…” I cleared my throat. “From the age of eight to eighteen, I spent ten years in limbo. I had no idea where I was. I lost the ability to speak. I existed for your friends’ sick pleasure only. On most days, I didn’t even see the sunlight. When I did, it was only for me to be of service to vicious humans that were triple my age.”
“Fylox—”
“Let me speak,” I urged Kamila. She quieted. “I was a child, one of many. I witnessed the deaths of disobedient children. I must have been the lucky one because it didn’t matter how often I spat at my captors and their servants. I was never killed. I lived on to see another day. Your friends must have despised my father and his job of bringing justice. ”
I removed my shirt with one firm grip. Aram’s eyes went wide at my chest. “Do you recognize these scars? You don’t. You never had to see them. You let your friends roam free. When they’re not supervised, they don’t humiliate the women you so proudly humiliate. These women bore them. No, they humiliate children of all genders. On some days, I take mushrooms to numb the images in my head.”
“I don’t have to ask if you know what I mean. You have a clear image of abuse in your head. You did it so brilliantly with Kamila.” I took deep breaths. This didn’t have to be a clean cut. In fact, I never cut people. I usually broke their bones until they died on me.
I removed Aram Wraith’s clothes while he howled. There would be no debasement. “Take a good look at your father’s face, little queen.”
I grabbed my knife, and I meticulously picked apart the skin of Aram Wraith’s face. I addressed Kamila while Aram’s eyes pleaded for me to stop. “Tell me, what would you say if you were to become queen?”
“Queen of what?” Kamila asked.
“Queen of Katantia.”
Aram’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and his eyes widened. I was doing my job, unmasking a monster. It bored me. I moved lower, trying my luck with his chest. Perhaps I could take a glimpse at his heart? Did he even have one?
“Why would I become Queen of Katantia when—”
“Would you want to become Queen of Katantia?” I stabbed my knife into Aram’s skin, taking off far more than I wished. He started bleeding out, and I rolled my eyes.
I wasn’t an expert at flaying people. I barely knew what all the muscles were called. I’d never studied in a regular school. I only knew what Alex taught me, and he’d said there were specific arteries you didn’t want to get cut.
The blood swamped my eyes, and I had to move fast if I wanted to cut Aram’s dick off while he was alive.
I shifted on top of him, sitting on his broken knees. He winced some more, but it was an afterthought for me.
Kamila gasped when I carved Aram’s flaccid dick. “I want to help my people. Are you sure this is the way?”
“For sure.” I inhaled. I felt a sudden urge to drink this man’s blood, but I let it be. I wouldn’t do that to Kamila. She deserved justice, not a freakshow.
Chop. Chop. Chop.
I sliced open Aram Wraith’s penis, and blood spilled out, painting my vision black. I drew in a long breath, relishing in the suffering I caused.
Looking down upon myself, I discovered that I was covered in fresh blood. It had begun to dry on my skin, and it made me gag. I removed Aram Wraith’s penis, his weeping echoing in the room, and I chopped it into four small pieces.
Aram Wraith was still alive, but not for long. He was already bleeding out at his chest.
I picked up the pieces, and I shoved them down his throat.
