AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing myself for the fate I wrote years ago, as he begins to recite my words from memory.
“I lower the cigarette to the first freckle, and the scream she releases is pure sin. A wave of pleasure courses through me.” He lowers the cigarette to my skin as he says the words, and I try my hardest not to cry. The pain is red hot, but over quickly, replaced by something similar to a terrible sunburn.
Again.
Again.
Again.
He traces the pattern of imaginary freckles on my collarbone until I’ll sport similar scars to the victim I wrote about, a woman named Noelle, if I’m remembering right.
When he’s done, my skin feels as if every layer has been ripped off, exposing tendons, muscles, and raw flesh. My throat is sore from screams I could no longer contain. He stubs the cigarette out on the nightstand and climbs off the bed, clicking his tongue.
“Smoking is a terrible habit, Mari.”
I want to look down at the damage he’s done, but I don’t dare.
“So is lying.”
I nod. “I’m sorry.”
“Not as sorry as you’re going to be.”
I eye him.
“Do you remember what happens next?”
I swallow, because I do. Not the rape. Not yet. First comes…
He pulls a pair of pliers from his pocket, a wide grin forming on his lips. “Open wide.”
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
“Chris, please.Please.” I back away from him, covering my mouth, sheer terror swimming through me and paralyzing me from moving farther when I hit the headboard. “You can’t do this. There’s no going back from this.”
“If you don’t want this stuff to happen, why do you write about it?” he demands, staring at me with wild eyes.
“It’s just fiction. It’s made up. It’s just supposed to be a story.”
“It’s so much more than that, Mari. We both know it. There’s beauty in it. In pain. In suffering. In fear.” He inches closer, like something out of a horror movie. In the book, the killer plucks out his victim’s two front teeth. “You saw that. You got it, more than anyone else. You understand how beautiful pain can be.”
Like most people, I’m not the biggest fan of my teeth in general. They could be whiter. My front left one has the smallest chip in it, and I always wished they were more square than rounded, but now, the idea of this is worse than anything else.
How could I have ever written something so horrible without feeling this fear, without living what my characters were living?
“Please.I get it. You’ve taught me. I understand now. I really, really do.” I inch toward the edge of the bed, away from him, with a hand held in the air and the other shielding my mouth, begging him to stop this. “I’ll do whatever you want, Chris. I’ll never try to leave again. I promise. I swear. You’ve made your point. Just stop!”
He launches himself forward, charging over the bed, and my scream dies in my throat when he grabs my chin and shoves me into the wall, pliers at the ready. I close my eyes, my head digging into the wall behind me, bracing myself for what’s to come.
“Chris?” The voice startles us both, and he turns around as if he expects her to be standing in the room. The stairs creak, and I hear the sound of someone’s footsteps on them. “Are you down here?”
He turns back to me, his eyes black and empty. He puts his finger to his lips, whispering. “If you make a sound, I’ll kill you both.”
My stomach clenches. I have no doubt he’s telling the truth as he shoves the pliers back into his pocket and crosses the room quickly, opening the door and walking back outside.
“What are you doing here?”
I don’t know whether I should risk it, but I consider it thoroughly. If she’s the only person who could help me, would she be able to get to safety and call for help? Or would he overpower her in a second and make good on his promise by killing us both? And, more than that, what if she doesn’t want to help me at all? What if she already knows I’m here and doesn’t care? What if, even if she doesn’t, she would choose him? Then he’d definitely kill me for not following his rules.
