Page 50 of Monsters Like Us
“I don’t think.” I shift my weight, testing the pipe again. The faint groan of metal answers me. “I know.”
I stretch my leg across the concrete as far as it’ll go. My bare toes edge forward until they bump the syringe. My leg shakes, sweat trickling down my back as I curl my toes, nudging it closer, inch by inch, careful not to scrape it loud enough for anyone above to hear.
Katana’s breath catches.
My foot hooks the barrel. I drag it toward me, muscles straining, my wrists screaming as the chains bite and split skin. The needle glints once under the buzzing bulb before I cover it, sliding it beneath the arch of my foot, careful not to stab myself. The cold metal tip bites my skin like a secret.
Katana’s lips part, but she doesn’t speak. Her eyes lock on mine, a flicker of fear and something else—hope.
I hold her gaze and let my voice go soft for her alone. “Good. Just breathe. We’re almost there.”
We’re not out yet.
But the plan has teeth now.
CHAPTER 45
Micah
They come downthe stairs like vultures gathered for a feast. Vale’s footsteps pound. Corinne follows, moving with the calm of someone who’s practiced cruelty until it became a routine. The machine hums behind them like a beast waiting to be fed.
Katana sees them and unravels. She’s a wild thing on the end of a leash—screaming, thrashing, every primal part of her trying to dislodge the chains and the world that wants to own her. Vale grins as if she’s a toy that finally woke up to its purpose.
“Help restrain her,” he orders.
Corinne’s hands are steady and precise. They unhook Katana, then half-carry, half-wrench her toward the apparatus. Leather buckles meet flesh. Corinne snaps the straps into place with a clean efficiency that makes bile rise in my throat.
“Feisty one, isn’t she?” Vale breathes. He looms over herlike a butcher admiring a cut. “I’ll enjoy breaking her.”
“Such spirit. It always burns out sooner than you think,” Corinne murmurs, tightening a strap.
I’ve heard that line before in the mouths of men who think they own the world.
I’ve been patient long enough.
Vale’s hand skates across the console, and wires hum in reply like a chorus. “I’ve been watching,” he says, his voice slick. He nods in my direction. “You talk to him, don’t you? Tell the monster your secrets. But you won’t tell me the truth.” His gaze sharpens, cruel curiosity lighting his face. “You were touched, weren’t you? Someone stole from you.”
The color drains from her face. She doesn’t answer.
He needs nothing more than her silence.
He throws the switch. The machine screams to life—its high, metallic shriek ripping through concrete and bone. My mouth tastes like metal, and the skin on my arms lifts.
“This will only hurt for a minute,” Vale taunts as he slams his hand on the panel. The shock hits her. The bulb above flickers, then dies, plunging the room into a darkness so complete it feels like drowning.
Katana’s scream slices the dark.
For a second, I’m blind before everything else sharpens: the thud of her heart, the wet rasp of breath, the machine keening, Vale’s cruel laughter echoing in the dark. Panic sears through me.
I yank at the pipe until it shrieks—metal protesting—then breaks free. My muscles coil as I bend, my fingers closing around the syringe, slick with the phantom sweat of waiting. It’s small and fragile in my fist, but the needle is a promise.
The machine delivers another brutal pulse. The bulb flares back on, snapping the world into color. Vale leans over the console, delighted, like a man savoring dessert. Corinne’s hands move with the calm of routine.
Katana’s body bows against the restraints. She arches, a sound tearing out of her that will haunt me until I die, before going still. Spittle beads on her lips, and her skin bleaches to the color of moonlight. She gurgles once, like a machine losing power, then falls silent.
Oh, fuck. She’s dead.
Something in me breaks—a howl, a tearing, a shape I’ve kept caged for years. Tears cut hot tracks down my cheeks as I look at her—the woman who made me feel anything close to alive.
