Page 13 of The Blue Rose
He starts to move a little, trying and failing to sit up. His eye’s bulge, panic setting in.
“Hello!” he starts to yell, “Is anyone there?” Now he’s angry, jerking his body in every way in a fruitless attempt to get out of his restraints. “What the hell? This isn’t funny, let me go or so help me I will-”
I step out of the darkness, remaining out of his sight, and in a menacing voice say, “You’ll what?”
Fear leaving him frozen, slowly starting to look around to see where the voice came from. I do love seeing the fear in my victims eyes, it makes what’s about to come next all the sweeter.
Stepping around so he can see my face, his eyes bulge in recognition. “You?!” He shrieks, rage forcing his voice to shake. “This isn't funny man. Why the fuck am I here?”
I get close to his face, hoping he can smell the cigarette I smoked earlier, and quietly say, “I didn’t think it was very funny when you looked at my little lamb like she was crazy.” He looks confused, trying to remember the events of the night, but coming up empty.
My body stiffens, eyes flaring, and my hands are begging to grab the weapon to make him scream. I grab my knife from my instrument tray and slam it down into his hand so fast he doesn’t have time to think.
He lets out a blood curdling scream, his voice echoing through the shed. “I’m going to fucking kill you, you think-”
Not letting him finish his sentence, I bring the knife up, and back into the same spot, increasing his pain. His hand starts to twitch, the pain I can only imagine starting to become too much. I contemplate taking the knife out and stabbing it into his other hand, but that would be showing mercy.
Mercy is not an option for this asshole.
I grab another knife, leaving the other one in his hand. Walking around to the other side of him, I push this knife in slowly, letting the skin hug the knife, the blood slowly coming up, and the pain all the more agonizing. “That was your punishment for making my little lamb feel crazy.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Little lamb? Fuck dude, there are so many people who come in the bar, I don’t remember everyone.” He says through clenched teeth.
“You don’t remember my little lamb? Well, let me jog your memory.” I twist the knife, I’m still holding, my patience wearing thin. “She was the one at the bar, in the red dress, that hugged her curves in all the right places.” I feel a twitch, reaching down to adjust my growing erection, from thinkingof her.Now is not the time to get off.Clearing my throat, I continue, “Drinking Moscow mules.” Still nothing, like she didn’t even exist in his tiny little world. I grind my teeth, “You almost made her cry.”
His eyes light up, finally remembering my little lamb, and it pisses me off how long it took for him to remember.He needs to be punished.I walk over to my table, grabbing my needle-nose plier, with a sick smirk lifting my cheeks. I pull the knives out of his hands, intentionally dragging the blades through his skin, and absentmindedly click the end of the pliers together as I decide where to start.
His eyes widened in fear, “What are you doing with that man? Look, I'm sorry, I won’t do it again. I promise!”
Placing the tool over his index finger, I look him in the eye. “This is your punishment for taking so long to answer me.” I pull out the nail, and he screams even louder than when I stabbed him.
“P-please let me go. I swear I will never insult her ever again,” he sobs, snot running down his face.
“I have nine fingernails left, by the last one, you wouldn’t have even come close to learning your lesson.”
This makes him cry harder, making it difficult for him to catch his breath.Fucking pathetic.My lambs have more dignity than this worm.
I grab his next finger, his wails grating on my nerves. “This is for looking at her like she was crazy”.
His nail makes a sucking sound as I pull it from his finger.
Pull
“This is for giving her a disgusted look when I called her beautiful”
Pull
I grab his naked ring finger, bending it backwards, until I hear asnap. “That is for spilling a drink on her.” He lets out a blood curdling scream.
Pull
His pinky is the last to go on this hand, “This is for trying to slap her back, after she punched you.” I want him to really feel this one, so I take my time, slowly pulling it out.
One hand is completely drenched in blood, and the other is just starting to bleed.Still not enough.He’s in so much pain, he is shaking. In a ragged voice, he pleads, “Please- please, no more. I can't take it. I’m begging you.”
“I have one hand left, and you haven’t even begun to feel a semblance of the pain you caused my little lamb.”
He tries to move away again, his fight or flight instincts kick in, and he tries with all his might to free himself from the restraints. I continue dishing out his punishment, removing fingernail after fingernail until all that remains are bloody nubs.
