Page 84 of Degradation
Such pretty eyes. Such beautiful, beautiful eyes.
They say eyes are the window to a person’s soul. Well, now, I own that part of her. I’ve claimed it, stolen it. No other man will ever be able to look at her from now on and see what I have.
As I hold them both in my hand, they feel so delicate, so fragile. The most precious jewels on earth.
I clamber off the bed, leaving her there, writhing, whimpering, clawing at her face. I know she’s not going anywhere now, that when I return, she’ll be here still. Maybe I’ll fuck her one last time. Give her one final hit before I return her to her husband’s wrinkled old grasp.
I slip from room, knowing that if I don’t do this now, then they’ll spoil. I’ve spent enough time in Oblivion to know how to preserve body parts.
I find a jar, it’s not ideal but I can transfer them to something more suitable in time. I plop them both in and fill the void with alcohol.
These are mine now. All mine.
When I returnto the suite, she’s laying there, howling, on the floor. She must have rolled off the bed, must have become disorientated without me there.
I pick her up, place her back on those bloodstained sheets, brushing the hair from her face.
There’s two hollow bleeding holes where her eyes were.
They stare back at me and I can’t help but smile at the knowledge that no one will ever lay their own eyes on them again.
It’s a piece of her I’m keeping.
A piece of her I’ll have for the rest of my days.
And for Paitlyn, the very last thing she remembers, the last thing she ever saw was me.
Pailtyn
He took my eyes. He took my eyes.
I wake alone. In darkness.
Every breath I take, every move, feels like my skin is ripping open.
He cut me. He carved me up.
But worse than all of that, he stole my eyes. He gouged them right out of my skull.
I scream out, I scream, and I scream, and I can’t stop it. I can’t.
It doesn’t matter what I do, it doesn’t matter if Gunther dies, if I somehow, miraculously, escape this hellscape, I’ll never rid myself of it. Of him.
My eyelids are swollen shut but that doesn’t stop the pain and, in my head, all I can see is that vision of him, the way he smiled, the way he savoured every horrific moment as he butchered me.
I know it’s the last thing I will ever see, the last thing I will remember.
And I also know that that too is what he wanted.
When I hear footsteps, I freeze, but the scream of horror tells me that it’s Ada.
What will Gunther do? What will he say? Am I naïve to think that he might punish Devin for this insult? Afterall, I’m his wife. I’m his property, not Devin’s.
Gunther may like to share me, may like to abuse me in all the worst ways imaginable but I wonder how he will feel when every time he looks at me from now on, my skin will scream the fact that another man has touched me, has hurt me, has owned me.
And the fact that he took my sight…
No, Devin hasn’t owned me. None of them have. None of those bastards will ever get to make that claim about me, no matter what they do to my body.
