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I almost wish I could hear his cries and screams. The muffled shouts behind his gag just aren’t quite the same. Knowing what he’s choking on is worth it, though.
Scar kisses my head as I drop the third fingernail to the floor in front of her feet, then makes her way back to Schroder. He’s been left alone for a little too long. It’s his turn to endure some suffering. I’ll keep this one occupied.
Kade and Luca have already stuffed Bernard’s dick down Schroder’s throat and tied the gag over it. He’s just ready and waiting for Scar to continue her fun. After all, that’s all he’s good for now. Her entertainment. Her pleasure. Her revenge.
She flutters from one demon to the next, like a butterfly flying from flower to flower. The only difference is she leaves behind a trail of blood and agony.
“I never should have expected anything but this from you,” she whispers as she approaches Schroder again. “You were always so close to Donahue and my father. Of course you would be cut from the same filthy, disgusting cloth. Twisted and depraved just like them.” Her blade sinks into his hand where it holds the arms of his chair. “Too bad I learned from the best. It makes my revenge so much fucking sweeter being the biggest monster in the room.”
Schroder loses several fingers and toes after that. Watching her work is one of my greatest joys in life. Never would I have thought my life would lead me here, but somehow amidst all the blood and chaos is where I feel the most at home.
“Can’t have them bleeding out too soon,” Declan soothes Scar as he kisses her forehead, carefully avoiding the blood smeared over her face. She nods her approval and both Schroder and Bernard pass out as Declan cauterizes the worst of their wounds.
Scar cackles, making me smile. Noah is quick to bring back out the smelling salts, forcing both men awake. They don’t deserve to find peace in the darkness of their minds, but Scar has already moved on. Back to the beginning. Back to the man who started it all.
Donahue has sat quietly, straining against his ropes but making no progress and no noise. He’s held his composure better than the other two, but that isn’t saying much. His wounds bleed freely, but not enough to be a concern. Yet. Glass shards are embedded in his skin, something Scar notices immediately. She uses the back of her favorite knife to press some of the shards deeper into his skin. A muffled groan escapes from behind the gag.
“I hate your fucking eyes,” Scar muses as she continues to tap along all the glass in his skin. “I want to carve them out of your fucking head and make you swallow them.” He tries to lean away from her, but has nowhere to go. How amusing. His fear permeates the air, giving me a high as adrenaline rushes through my blood. “But then you wouldn’t be able to enjoy the show I’ve worked so hard to put together for you.” Her blade moves deftly from hand to hand as she tosses it back and forth.
She nods to herself, making a decision. One hand grips the back of his chair as the other wraps tightly around the black hilt of her blade. “Guess that’s why God gave you two eyes.”
Charles begins to laugh and I can’t help but join him as Scar carves out one of Donahue’s eyes. Even the gag isn’t capable of smothering his cries as she does. When he passes out, I grab my extra water and chug half of it before moving to Scar’s side and dumping the rest on his head. I’ve had enough water to be okay. His singular eye snaps open, none of the clarity or sharpness left in his gaze. He’s barely holding on to the last bit of his sanity now. All three of them have been reduced to nothing more than the dirt under her shoes. Useless and small. Powerless. Just as Scar needed them to be.
“I’m ready to share,” Scar announces and attention snaps to her. She lifts a bag from where she dropped it earlier and begins to pull out blades, handing the first one to me, before moving around the room. When she stops in front of a very pale Charles, we all hold six knives in our possession. Most of mine are strapped to the holster on my waist and I toss the remaining one in the air before catching it by the hilt. They have a good weight to them. Sturdy, but comfortable. Easy to toss and move.
Scar smacks her head. “Forgot something. Hold please.”
I tilt my head as she walks first up to Schroder and rips his shirt from him. At least she doesn't climb into his lap like she was doing earlier. Don’t really care that she was in control, still wasn’t a fan of her being that close to them. Touching them. In his lap. I’m much more jealous than I thought I would ever be.
Scar leans over him, using one of the blades she kept for herself to carve a large daisy over his chest and stomach. Curiosity pricks at me, but I hold off on asking any questions. She’ll explain when she’s ready. As she finishes the last petal, I expect her to move on to Bernard, but doesn’t. She continues to carve something on Schroder.
The blade weighs in my hands and I study the ones at my waist again before looking at the ones in everyone else’s hands. They’re the exact same. I squint my eyes to see what else she’s drawing on the daisy. It takes a few petals before I finally catch on to her plan. I toss my blade up again. Yup, they have enough weight to be perfect as throwing knives.
Numbers.
What a perfect way to keep score.
The others begin to catch on as she repeats the process with Bernard before turning back to us. “Now I’m ready to share.” All six of us have two of our new blades in hand, waiting for her command. Our goddess of vengeance. Her twisted games and depraved desires. “Two shots per body. You have to call out a number for those two, or a letter for Donahue. Points for accuracy but any kill shots won’t be allowed in my bed for a month.” She smirks as we groan, but Charles just shrugs.
“Not much of a punishment for me.”
She glares at him and rolls her eyes. “I’ll make you clean up dead bodies for a month.”
Now he groans, even as the sound makes him pale more. He’s putting on a brave face, but he’s in a lot of pain and barely holding on. Scar must see it too, because she looks to Declan for confirmation that he’s really okay. I realized how much she truly loves him when I saw her fear and panic for him. None of us should be surprised, when Scar loves, she does it fiercely. Declan reassures her silently and she continues. “Winner gets to light the match on this bitch.”
With that last rule in place, Scar whirls on her feet and throws her first knife at Schroder. “10,” she calls as soon as she releases it from her fingers. To no one's surprise, it sinks in exactly where she called, just between the one and zero carved into the last petal. Groans sound as she took the smallest target at the center of the daisy, gaining her the most points for her first throw. Kade comes in a close second, Luca and I tie, then D, then Noah, and lastly Charles. I’ve seen him train and he’s at least as good as Declan, but his aim and power definitely aren’t as good due to his injury.
Scar wins first again with Bernard and Kade accuses her of cheating, making her guffaw. But we all know she needs to be the one to light the match anyways. He’s too busy giving her a hard time, he doesn’t realize that Luca and I both take our turns, claiming the best targets. Luca edges me out just slightly enough to take second place, but at least I beat Kade this time. Noah and D tie with their throws and I’m impressed with how much Noah has improved. He spends the least amount of training, preferring to be behind a screen. Pretty sure he would beg out of training altogether if Scar didn’t force the issue. Charles waves off his turn. Probably saving his strength for the one who really matters to him.
Saving the best for last. Donahue has been her biggest demon. The one who has haunted and hunted her the most. Without him, she may have even been able to heal from that night. The other two most likely would have never continued to pursue her.
“First C,” she says softly before throwing her first knife. It’s barely even stuck before she adds, “M,” with a smirk and lets her second blade fly. I roll my eyes when both blades find their marks flawlessly. Couldn’t expect anything less from her. My competitive nature almost makes me forget we are using human dartboards as our targets. But the muffled whimpers bring that joyful little detail to the forefront of my mind once more.
I watch as Charles climbs to his feet and sways a bit. Noah steps up to hold him steady. There’s more power behind his first throw than I thought was possible with the state he’s in, but he doesn't even bother to call out where he’s aiming. His energy is all going towards causing as much pain as possible without killing his father. Something I can respect.
Noah hands him his last two blades. “You need this more than I need points in a game we all know who’s winning.” Charles smiles, but his hand shakes as he takes the offered knives. Both easily find Donahue’s flesh, sinking in all the way to the hilt. His face grows more and more ashen with each throw, his breathing becoming heavier as he leans more and more on Noah. But the gleam in his eyes at the betrayal in his father’s must make it worth it.
The rest of us take our turns, not even really keeping score anymore. We all just enjoy watching him writhe in pain as each knife strikes him. As soon as we’re all done, Scar tells us to leave the knives in place as we get everything ready. It’s as D said, can’t have them bleeding out too soon.
