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“Remove the blindfold.” My father orders and I watch, my eyes painfully glued to the sight as Domenic unties the black cloth from her eyes.
Pained ocean blue clouds my vision and I feel light-headed.
She wasn't supposed to see this.
Glancing to my right I notice two large buckets being pulled on the stage. More of my father's man servants join us on stage, and I watch as they begin to fill the buckets to the brim with water and then ice. Creating a bath cold enough to kill.
“Drown him.”
Strong hands reach down before shoving my face in the water. My nerves are on fire and I can't breathe. I can't breathe and the monster in me is crawling, fighting to break free. Trying to save myself from hands I couldn't reach.
And then I’m yanked free, and I fill my lungs with oxygen so quickly you would think I was trying to pop a pair of birthday balloons. Still stuffing air into my body like I’m a Party City pinata, I look up briefly to find Blondie's skyscraper eyes on me, pulling me in and making me feel like I want to jump. Fall until I plunge six feet under and end up partying with the fishes. Her wrists are bleeding and I barely have time to scowl before I’m underwater again.
Water fills my lungs again and I have to fight not to open my mouth even though my instincts are screaming at me to breathe. My skin turns numb and I can practically feel the blood draining from my body. A few more rounds of this and hypothermia just might make a little surprise visit.
Yay me. I might just have to post this one on my Insta Story later. Points for creativity daddy dearest. I guess he just wanted everyone to be as cold-blooded as he was.
Ice fills my veins and I know from experience that I’m seconds away from passing out. I think distantly I hear screaming but at this point, it might all be in my imagination. I wasn't exactly in the headspace to be making accurate assessments of my surroundings seeing as my head was currently being treated like a bag of Costco grapes.
Black edges my vision just before I’m pulled out, my head rolling weakly to the side. It’s a struggle to breathe and I have to focus on taking shallow breaths just to keep the oxygen inside my freezing heart.
“Again.” The words are distant in my blood-drained mind, my eyelids growing heavy. This time they plunge the lower half of my body in the second tub, immersing my body up to my waist and I have to bite my tongue to keep from crying out from the shock of it.
Cold. So fucking cold.
“You're killing him!” Her voice whimpers in the air. The syllables like heat on my numb skin, warming me from the inside out. My eyelashes flutter and that's when I see her. Wrists and ankles bleeding from pulling on the ropes. From trying to get to me.
My fiery pixie.
“Stop! Please stop.” Soft sobs fill the air, but I’m frozen to the bone, and the noise doesn't penetrate.
“Do you hear that? Your little play thing is begging for your life.” His bitter laugh rings out and I want to kill him all over again.
“If only she knew this is only the first half of our show.” The audience starts to laugh, the bitter sound causing goosebumps to break out across my skin.
“Pull him out.” Hands grab me and throw me back in the chair. My skin is so numb it is practically purple and I can't feel my lips. Can't speak. I look for her but she's gone and panic fills my head all over again, making me dizzy.
“Your turn, son.” Words are spoken but I can barely hear anything over the ringing in my ears. Where is she? Where did they take her?
“Why don't you show everyone here why they call you The Monster?” His brow quirks and recognition sparks through the storm of my brain.
And then she's in front of me and all thoughts are wrung out of my twisted mind. She's still tied to the chair, her wrists and ankles bruised and bleeding.
Oh angel what did I let them do to you?
They've put the blindfold back on and I hate that I can't see her eyes. Can't open the windows of her mind and peek inside.
Deftly, I feel hands prodding at my sides and the faint tug of a knife. They were cutting my ties off. Why were they cutting the ties off? Anxiety fluttered in my stomach like butterflies and I felt caught in their net. A bug for them to capture and play with as they wished. Welcome to the Black Mansion, everybody. Loads of fucking rainbows and sunshine over here.
My arms were so numb that I practically limped forward like a box of overcooked pasta by the time they finished cutting the ties. I was bloody useless and I hated it. I hated it so much my skin itched and the monster inside me roared, begging to be released.
“Now why don't you give us the show you all promised and fuck her?” The question scraps across my skin and I wince. Well looks like my earlier promise came back to bite me in the ass. Too bad I wasn't one for an audience.
“No.” It comes out softer than I intended, my lips still numb from all the ice but the meaning is clear. I was not fucking Blondie. Not here and certainly not with a bunch of soulless socialites watching and taking notes like a bunch of honor students.
His hand reaches out and I have no time to react as I’m suddenly shoved forward, my head slammed into the ground. His boot is pressing me into the wooden floor and I’m suddenly grateful for the cold, makes it harder to feel.
“Fuck. Her.” Removing his shoe from my face he polishes off the gesture by giving me a final shove forward along with a lovely size ten boot print on my spine.
