Page 11 of The Bones We Break
I wonder when he will start to piss himself from the terror that’s practically screaming from his pores. It’s a pleasure to hear his pleas, the true horror that’s radiating from him is pure ecstasy. My head snaps to the left as his wife starts to come to, confusion washing over her face as she tries to place where she is and what happened before she ended up tied to her kitchen chair. I rise from my haunches and make my way over to Sienna, her drowsy state making it easy for me to drag her chair into the middle of the room to face her husband straight on, the legs screeching against the tiled floor. Filling the space behind her, I place my hands on her shoulders, giving the frail bones a squeeze. She yelps from the sudden pain, her head shooting up and I quickly silence her with my palm across her mouth before she has the chance to scream the fucking house down. The last thing I need is more people to dispose of. I feel her hot breaths fanning across my fingers from her nose.
Michael pipes up.
“Get your disgusting hands off of her, she has nothing to do with this, this is my problem not hers.” He tries to protecthis wife but I think the smack across his face has dislodged his brain because he seems to forget that he’s the one restrained, and I’m not. I feel a wetness trail over my fingers, Sienna starts to sob from behind my hand, the tears seeping into the creases of my fingers.
“Nico, your knife, hand it over.” I extend my hand towards him and he places his beloved knife, who he’s namedLucy, into the palm of my hand. My fingers flex over the black handle, my grip feeling every single ridge of the hard material. The blade is heavy, but easy to handle. Feeding my hand through Mrs Murphy’s wiry hair, I pull her head to the side, exposing her neck to me, the bluish veins rise to the surface beneath her almost translucent skin. Ever so gently, I begin to drag the tip of the knife up her jugular, her throat bobbing as the blade grazes over her skin. She silently cries as Michael begs in the background for me not to hurt her, his voice almost muffled in my ears. I’m lost in the moment, the vision of her skin splitting open, the dark crimson liquid pouring down her chest, becoming a richer shade of red as it hits the oxygen in the air plays across my mind like a horror movie.
My focus comes back into the present as Michael’s voice comes whooshing into my ears.
“Please! I’m begging you! You don’t have to do this!” he starts to throw himself about in his chair, tipping the legs of the chair from side to side. Nico places a solid hand onto his shoulder to keep him in place.
“Now, we’re going to play a little game, you and me.” I point the knife between Michael and myself. “For every lie you feed me, your beautiful wife here loses a pound of flesh. And don’t think I won’t know when you’re lying to me.” My whole demeanour shifts at the thought of the torture I’ll bring to this family, the thrill and excitement rushing through my veins likea rapid stream. I can already smell the copper scent of blood, making my mouth water.
“Let’s begin shall we?” I turn to Nico, “Find me some food scales, I won’t have my pound of flesh an ounce over or under.”
“Who’s ready for the first round of our little game?” I tease. “Do you like games, Nico?” The mountain of a man shuffles on his feet before answering. “Erm, yes boss, I quite like Operation. You know the one where you have to play surgeon and remove the little plastic pieces of a body without being electrocuted.” His tone is serious. Very fitting for him, I guess.
I face Michael again, my knife still resting at his wife’s neck. “Now, where is my fucking money?” I already know the answer but I want to test him. I want to see if he will save his wife’s neck. Michael fumbles over his words.
“I.. We, I.. I have it, I can sort it for you. I swear it.” Uh oh. I don’t think this man knows the difference between the truth and a lie. I might as well hand him a shovel for how deep in the shit he’s digging.
“It seems you’ve lied to me, Michael.” I taunt. “You see, I wanted to test you. To give you the benefit of the doubt to come clean with me, but you didn’t. You’d rather save your own skin than save your wife.” I move the blade along Sienna’s collar bone towards her shoulder, and down to the side of her arm.
“No. Please. Listen! I have the money, I swear. Just.. give me some time to get it.” he begs and pleads, but I’ve heard enough of his bullshit. Flipping the knife horizontally, the blade facing down, I begin to cut through the meat of his wife’s arm, like slicing into a piece of steak. Sienna screams behind the palm of my hand, tears pouring in fast trails down her face until they hang onto her chin before giving into gravity and dropping to her chest, soaking her white shirt. My blade slices effortlesslythrough her flesh, the fatty tissue breaking away from her arm. Blood pours profusely from the open wound, and drips onto the tiled floor, forever staining it.That’s gonna be a bitch to clean. Before I fully sever the chunk, I signal to Nico to find something to catch it in. He quickly produces a plastic tupperware box and places it under Sienna’s arm just as I finish the slice, the soft substance landing in the tupperware with a splat. Sienna sobs and screams beneath my hand, the pain firing through her body. Dropping my hand, I stuff a cloth from the kitchen unit into her mouth before she can make any more annoying sound. Cutting off her voice, completely.
“You fucking bastard! How fucking could you!” Michael screams from where he’s still bound in the chair, shaking his head from side to side like a wild animal, cloudy tears well in his guilty eyes.
“Sienna, honey. Please, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
The sorry sack of shit tries to plead with his wife but she simply turns her head away, dismissing him. Interesting. She whimpers silently behind the gag, bubbles of snot blowing out of her nose before they pop on her face, leaving a sticky residue.
“The thing is Michael, I gave you the rules of the game and you simply went against them, did you not?” I say, giving him the rhetorical question whilst I turn to Nico who’s still holding onto the tupperware with Sienna’s meat in it.
“Weigh it.” I demand, watching him place the tub onto the food scales. He leans over to check the weight before facing me.
“Eight ounces, boss. Eight ounces short.” That’s a shame. Sienna begins to cry again, already knowing that I haven’t cut enough off of her. Michael starts to gag, his head falls forward to dry heave, then looks up at his wife, heavy dread forming on hisfeatures.
“Please forgive me, I’m so sorry.” He whispers, defeat etches over his face. She pauses a moment before turning to face him. I can’t quite pinpoint the emotion that’s on her face, but she definitely looks pissed. Emotions aren’t really my thing.
Sienna turns to face me, mumbling something behind the gag and I reach forward to pull the cloth from her mouth, a string of saliva trailing behind it. She swallows hard, trying to moisten her mouth again, the fabric soaking up the wetness from her chin.
“For years.” she starts, turning her hard gaze to her husband again. “Years, Michael. I stayed by your side. I believed that you would change your ways, that the lying, the cheating and gambling would stop. But it never did, and here we are. Our own daughter left because she couldn’t deal with the problems anymore.” Her words are laced with disappointment. There’s a pregnant pause in the air before she speaks again, this time addressing me.
“End this, you evil bastard. He will only carry on lying to you and I’ll probably lose more pieces of myself and bleed out before he decides to tell the truth. So, end it. Find a shred of humanity in yourself and do me the favour. Please.” Sienna looks me deep in the eyes, maybe trying to find that shred of humanity she thinks I have but she’ll never find it. It isn’t there. I’m an empty shell of a person when it comes to emotions. I don’t feel hurt, or guilty for the things I’ve done in my life. Remorse has never gifted me with its presence so when I shove the cloth back into Sienna’s mouth, I’ve given her my wordless answer.
“Next question.” I say.
Michael’s shoulders drop in defeat, his head hanging low as I come behind Sienna and tilt her chin backwards so her headrests against my abdomen. Her eyes look up until they reach mine. Another silent plea to end her torment. I quickly dismiss her, then face her lying, piece of shit husband.
“Instead of testing your ability to tell the truth, which you seem to find quite challenging, I’m going to test your true faithfulness to your family. You have three options. You either cut a pound of flesh from yourself until I’m satisfied, cut a piece from your lovely wife here, or. You give me your daughter, and what I have planned for her is nothing compared to this. Which will it be? You have five minutes to decide.” I give him the ultimatum and begin counting down the minutes on my Rolex. Sienna’s body starts to wrack with sobs, she scrunches her eyes shut, squeezing the tears between the thin skin before they trail to her ears.
“Tick tock Michael.” I taunt, shaking my wrist with the watch on. No matter his answer, I will be claiming Annabelle regardless of whether he or his wife live to see it isn’t my problem. Just another issue taken care of in my eyes.
“I can’t do this. You can’t make me do this! Let my wife go.” Anger begins to take over him, but still, it doesn’t seem enough of a push to actually make a somewhat honorary decision. Sienna attempts to push the cloth out of her mouth, making it clear that she has something else to say and I groan in frustration. Why does everyone feel the need to fucking talk? I yank the ball of material out of her mouth once again.
“What could-”
“Fucking choose Michael! For once in your pathetic life, make a fucking choice, like a man, a father. So help me God, if you hand over our daughter to this sick bastard.” I smirk at that comment.
