Page 183 of Stand: Part One
Darren shrugged. “Not everything has to be complicated.” He turned around and nodded to the man still patiently waiting by the camera. On command, he stepped into action, securing a black ski mask over his head that depicted a white skull on the face.
The second the terror washed over the blonde’s face, I found myself yanking against my restraints.
“Argh! Why do I need to be here! Haven’t I witnessed enough torture for you?!”
Darren turned around to stare down at me, a knowing look in his eyes.
“Because I’m hoping these will have a much more effective impact on you,” he answered. “I know how much physical pain you can take and how the threat of it doesn’t seem to inspire your obedience anymore. And while I thoroughly enjoy beating and fucking that stubborn willfulness out of you, the circumstances have changed. I can no longer afford to have you thinking you’ll just take your whipping and move on. Not when you’re putting your life in jeopardy because of it.”
I gaped up at him, disbelief and horror blurring my vision at what he was implying.
“It’s time I reinstalled a healthy dose of fear in you, to remind you of who you belong to and what I’m capable of.” I felt my stomach roil with anxiety as he glared at me intently, the pure malice radiating from his cold gaze making me shiver. “I told you that you had disobeyed me for the last time, and I meant it. There will be no more leniency. From now on, your transgressions will be paid for by another, and you will watch every second of it until it finally sinks into your head that disobedience is no longer an option, starting today.”
Darren nodded at one of the other men, who immediately moved to stand behind the camera and pressed record.
What happened next was a scene that rivaled the movie Hostel. This poor woman was systematically cut apart, piece by piece. Her nails, her toes, her tongue, even some of her teeth had been slowly removed to create the greatest amount of suffering.
Only when he started to remove the rolls of skin from her stomach did she finally bleed out, and even then, her torturer didn’t stop. He took her apart like a puzzle and unceremoniously dumped what was left of her into a giant trash bin.
Throughout the entire scene, I couldn’t seem to catch my breath, my heart pounding into the metal table below it as my body shook with horror.
Every time I closed my eyes, every time I looked away, Darren would activate my collar and shock me until I returned my gaze. He had to do it three separate times before I finally found a brick in the corner behind the scene to focus on instead. But averting my sight barely helped compared to what I could still blatantly hear and smell.
Her screams were deafening, the shrill sound sharp with so much pain, it made my stomach churn with nausea. I’d never been so grateful to forget to eat. I was honestly surprised Camaro hadn’t reacted more than she did, but she was trained to ignore screaming unless it was mine.
But while I was forced to watch the atrocity carried out in front of me, it sickened me even more knowing that someone had paid for these specific requests. Someone had not only paid for her to die this way, but they also paid to have it filmed so they could enjoy it as often as they pleased.
What had this girl done to deserve such a horrific death? Who was she to the person who demanded such agony? Did Darren even know? Did he even care to ask?
“Who was she?” I finally managed to croak out, my voice barely a broken whisper.
I could feel Darren’s gaze turn to me as I watched her executioner wash away the blood from the chair, walls, and floor with a hose down the drain. When his task was done, he packed up his tools and left without a second glance.
“The client’s niece. Evidently, she didn’t like her very much.”
My brows rose. She?
Oh my God. A woman had conjured up that nightmare?
I had no right to be surprised. People were evil. And evil had no gender.
“As for the other one, apparently her husband has finally had enough of her embarrassing drug habit and constant unfaithfulness.”
My eyes shot over to the brunette who was currently huddled on the mattress, her eyes closed and her hands over her ears. Her entire body was shaking as she quietly cried into the mattress.
Dread weighed me down at the idea of having to watch her tortured execution as well, my body shaking at the thought of enduring more.
“Darren,” I said, my gaze lingering on the metal table. “You’ve made your point.”
Scott turned in the corner of my view to glance back at Darren. He then nodded, and placed his phone at his ear as he headed back up the stairs, leaving us alone with just the crying women still chained to the dirty mattress.
I could feel Darren’s eyes on me, hovering over my body with the kind of judgment you could feel scratching against your skin.
“Have I?” he asked, his voice a low taunt as his steps echoed across the floor.
I nodded. “I get it. Please, I don’t want to see any more. I’ve seen enough death this past week to last me a lifetime.”
His leisurely steps continued until I could feel him standing right behind me. And then he lowered himself to my ear. “See, I’m not sure you have,” he murmured, that soft tone full of malicious deceit.
