Page 92 of One
My boyfriend looks at me with rage in his eyes. And although I see a hint of that softness that he always aims at me, the force of his fury is stronger.
“Doctor, you keep surprising me.” Polsner’s voice is strained, probably because of the drill bit still sticking out of his knee. And the bullet in his thigh. And the broken nose and bloody face. “All I killed were social outcasts and delinquents. Nobody will miss them. Some would even thank me for it. While you are torturing a police detective.”
Raph places the drill near Polsner’s side and turns it on. The detective’s howls and cries are so loud I can hear them over the sound.
I’m a medical examiner; I can eat my dinner while watching a recorded autopsy. My stomach is made of cast-iron. But seeing Raph lost in his anger makes me sick. He turns the drill off and slides the long metal bit out, making Polsner gurgle something unintelligible. When he positions the drill on the detective’s cheek, I place my hand on his arm to stop him.
I usually lose my sanity in Raph’s intense green eyes easily. They are soul-sucking. Even now, filled with fire, they are pulling me under his spell. Demanding me to give in.
But I’ve been fighting with myself since Raph told me about all this. Finding excuses, searching for reasons, giving him and his brothers the benefit of the doubt. And now… now is the moment of truth. The moment when I choose what path to follow.
So, I turn to Polsner. “Do you know what Ling Chi is?” My voice sounds less firm than I want, and a whole lot more trembly.
“Fuck you,” he croaks.
Raph turns rigid next to me, but I squeeze his arm. He lowers the drill, regarding me with uncertainty.
“Ling Chi, also known as ‘slow slicing’ or ‘death by a thousand cuts’ was a method of torturous execution practiced in China. The condemned was tied to a post, and bits of skin and limbs were gradually removed one by one, usually culminating in a final cut to the heart or decapitation,” I explain. My love for blood took me to dark corners once or twice.
“It was used as early as the 10th century, and continued for nearly a thousand years,” Sari’s voice comes through the intercom.
The small smirk that appears on Raph’s lips doesn’t take away his anger, but it makes him look more like my psycho boyfriend.
“Wow,” I hear Rami saying.
“Want to try?” I ask Raph.
He grabs my nape and pulls my mouth to his in a searing kiss. The fact that a killer is a few feet away from us, as is most of our family, makes me pull back earlier than I want. He was right that day at the morgue, stranger things did happen.
“God, you are sick fucks!” Polsner snarls.
“Raph was right. You got lucky at every turn. Drugged and strangled your victims from behind because you’re a coward. Perfect crime, my ass,” I tell him, just to ruffle his feathers.
“I maneuvered everybody like puppets! Diaz was so easy.Isent him to that therapist. Straight to my prey!”
“And they both were suspicious about you. You were too cocky.” I admonish him.
“Diaz was a nosy, dumb fuck. Shouldn’t have started a secret investigation on me!” Polsner spits blood on the floor, too close to my sneaker.
“He was a good cop.”
“You are blind. I did the same to you,” Polsner tells me with annoyance. “Why do you think the department chose you out of so many medical examiners?”
I feel a shudder roll down my spine. All these months… he’s been waiting to pounce on me. If Raph hadn’t come back into my life, I’d be one of the Rope Killer’s victims by now.
“I made it happen, you fool.” The detective chuckles.
“Who’s the fool now?” Raph quips before drilling Polsner’s other knee. The rolling blood hypnotizes me. I don’t want to touch; the crimson sight is enough. Raph’s blood is the only one that I want to taste.
“Fuck!” Polsner screams, panting like an angry bull. “You think you’re better than me? You are killers too. You are even worse with your green room and torture table.”
Raph has moved slightly in front of me, taking a protective pose and pushing me a few steps backward. That’s when I’m certain of my choice. Because he’ll always put my well-being first.
“Sometimes, bad guys make the best good guys,” I say.
Raph places the drill on the table and switches it with an axe. He swiftly swings it in the air. Blood splatters, and I hear the sickening thump of the head hit the floor and roll. But my eyes are stuck on the rest of the body.
“Fuck yeah!” I hear Rami whistle. “Sometimes bad guys make the best good guys,” he says, trying to imitate my voice.
