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My eyes don’t leave hers as I use the key to unlock my neck then my other hand before my feet. The tension across my body loosens as the last manacle falls, my chest instantly feeling lighter.
I stand to full height and crack my neck, looking down at the tiny woman in front of me. I’m at least a foot taller than her and weigh probably three times as much. Still, the 1911 in her hand would take me down if she used it, and she has the space, and I wouldn’t doubt, the skill. But that won’t get me what I want.
Crossing my arms, I wait to see what she says.
A slow smile curves her lips as her eyes roam my massive frame. A whimper from Huntske has my eyes looking over to him briefly before looking back at Ginger to see a sinister gleam in hers.
She tosses the knife at my feet before nodding to Huntske.
“You want to work for me? Start by taking care of this one.”
I lean down and grab the blade in my hand, flexing my fingers around the hilt. It feels familiar in my hand, a welcome weight. My eyes meet Ginger’s, and she gives a short nod, stepping back.
That’s the confirmation I needed.
My body thrums with the thought of impending bloodshed, making my dick harden. With no clothes, he juts out in front of me proudly, shame something I’ve long since grown out of.
I turn to Huntske who somehow manages to pale even more, his eyes scanning the grin on my face, my rock-hard dick, and the blade in my hand. My scar stretches as my smile widens, and I take a step toward him.
I don’t say anything as I get to work, the only sounds his shrill screams and the steady dripping of blood.
Using the edge of the blade, I start by peeling away the skin on his face. Using the hunting skills I learned as a child, I do it carefully, separating the membranes around the edges. I remember when one of my older brothers taught me so many years ago. The knife she’s given me isn’t the zipper or skinning knife I’m used to, but it’s sharp enough that I manage to make it work.
Once I’ve gotten the edges sliced, I carve around his eyes then peel them back, using the small point of the blade to separate the remaining threads clinging to the skin.
The entire process only takes minutes until I manage to get the majority of the skin off his face and stand back to survey my work.
Huntske’s screams roll over my skin, a background symphony of pain. The ragged breaths, the cascade of blood rushing down his chest, all show me that he’s weakened but not done.
“Impressive,” Ginger comments from behind me. “What next?”
I turn to her. “Want to see something fucking cool?”
She looks a bit surprised but nods.
She nods toward the piece of skin in my hand, and I shrug, tossing it to the floor with a loud splat.
“I don’t have my usual tools for this, so bear with me.”
I ignore Huntske’s pleas as I move around him, deciding how best to begin. After some deliberation, I decide to keep him sitting. Stepping up to him, I bring the blade down on the skin of his chest, pushing enough to separate the skin from neck to belly. His screams pierce my ears, but I don’t stop, keeping the pressure steady.
It’s here I’m in my element.
Using my hand as leverage, I use the knife to saw up through his breastbone, careful not to puncture his heart, lungs, or anything else. Can’t have it over too fast.
It’s an art, pressing in just the right amount.
“Most people don’t realize that our ribs actually want to point outward. The only reason they don’t is because of this.” I tap the bone in my chest. “Our breastplate keeps it all together.”
The knife is good quality, but it’s not the bone saw I need, so by the time I’m getting to the end, I’m sweating from the exertion. Only a small piece of breastbone keeps the man's ribs together when I turn to Ginger with a devilish grin.
“Watch this,” I tell her, slamming the knife up in a hard motion. The plates part, and his ribs explode outward. I let out a laugh as the man’s insides are exposed, blood and bits of skin flying out. His screams rise to a fever pitch, and he throws up on himself, the offending substance oozing down his exposed chest. The screams get louder as the acidic bile touches his insides, and I turn back to Ginger.
As I expected, she looks more impressed than disgusted and waves a hand at me.
“Too fucking loud, take care of it,” she tells me, practically yelling over Huntske’s screams. I nod, immediately jamming the blade into his open chest.
Chapter 22
