Page 56 of Down from the Tower

His hand trails up, pressing against my eye. I wince and close it, but he keeps pressure there. “So pretty. Blue eyes, blue eyes! The nicest prize.”

These people are absolutely mad… or whatever a flower-headed thing is considered.

“The hair,” the other voice snaps, and I gasp when the pressure on my eye releases. It stings, but it’s nothing compared to the pain in my neck and chest. It feels like someone flayed me open and stuck a blade into the wounds for good measure. “Get more locks of hair. So pretty, so gold.”

I twitch when he presses a hand to my temple, shoving my head to one side. I cry out as the burning pain intensifies when I stretch my neck, and I try to kick my legs. That’s when I realize they are tied together to the chair.

He places a hand on my shoulder, and I can’t stop from sobbing.

“Cut out the tongue too when you’re finished. She makes so much noise.”

Flower Head grabs my face and turns it, making me scream when it feels like my skin is tearing apart. He pushes too far, straining my throat, and for a moment I wonder if he's going to snap my neck.

Twisted at this new angle, I can see the other one. The Madame if I’m hearing straight. She’s somehow worse than the thing twisting me around.

Her head is a sunflower, which is even more off-putting than the blue. She’s robustly heavy, with a figure that’s almost so wide she has to be fake. Like a three layer cake, her bottom half is very rounded, her middle slimmed, and her head is sucked into nothing, the petals of the sunflower encircling her face.

She spots me looking and grins, flashing the same set of teeth as the blue guy. “You bought his lie, sweet girl? Hansel is dead.”

There isn’t time to make sense of her words. There’s a sudden stabbing pain in my shoulder, and I scream out and struggle in the chair, my eyes watering as the pain races through me. My legs shudder, but the flower's grip on me doesn’t allow me to twist out of it.

The heat in here makes every touch feel worse, and when he moves his hand from my shoulder to my leg I can barely focus on it.

After what feels like forever, the burning pain draws back. I sob, his body moving from mine, and I can’t even describe what he was doing to me.

“Not the ears,” the blue guy grumbles. “Bad listening.”

I feel the tears building in my eyes, but as they race down my cheeks they evaporate. It’s so hot in here there’s nowhere for the tears to go.

“We don’t want the ears. We’ll cut off the lips and hair after the eyes. I want these eyes.”

Quiet cries slip from my lips, still stuck together by the gooey substance. At this point I'd rather stay asleep than hear all this.

They want my lips and hair and eyes. So what happens to the rest of me?

A hand slams down on my shoulder, the one he was just cutting into, and a cry escapes again. “Does Madame want the eyes now?”

“Finish prepping her and I'll take them after. You can have the body when I'm finished.”

Have the body.

Panic races through me. I don’t know if Zarev’s noticed I’m gone, or how long it’s going to take to find me. If I don’t help myself I’m as good as dead.

Looking to the one side, all I can see are jars and a big stack of laundry. None of that is going to help me, and no matter how I struggle against the restraints the gooey substance won’t give. My mouth is still sealed, and if I panic too much I’m going to pass out.

I can’t come all this way to die in some gingerbread house in the woods. It was foolish to walk down here, but until he changed, the man - flower, thing - looked normal.

Frustration rocks through me. I finally get to come down from the tower, and I’m going to die in a shack.

When the blue guy moves to touch me again, I scream behind the sludge in my mouth. My head warms a little, my desperation bleeding through to the magic in my hair. I don’t know what good that will do -

Blue guy hisses, and my head jerks up. “Too hot in here, madame.”

The other one scoffs, but I can’t see her. “Into the oven soon. A nice pie this girl will make. All of her pretty bits to finally bake.”

I gasp, the warmth in my head barely offering comfort against what’s around me. I force my head around, my shoulder screaming in protest. Dizziness swings through my mind again, and I’m definitely hurt. Possibly too hurt to run even if I can escape.

There’s a window past the blue guy’s head. A peek at daylight before they try to toss me in the oven.

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