Page 16

My free hand grips his sweaty hair, ripping his head backwards. “That’s where you’re wrong! If she says no, it means no. It doesn’t matter if she’s your wife, Roy. You should have been man enough to accept the no. But you’re not a man, are you? You’re a piece of shit. A waste of a pretty face.” I dig the tip of the knife between a set of ribs, feeling the blood trickle between my fingers, the sharp, scented metallic liquid hitting my senses. I’m like a shark that’s just gotten a whiff of its dinner.

“Stop…. stop. Please.” He screams and the voice inside my head laughs.

“It wasn’t even that deep. He can hurt them, but he can’t take an ounce of pain himself. Typical.”

“Tell me, Rooooy. What’s your favorite way to fuck your wife? You don’t seem like a missionary guy. It seems too... personal for you.” I pull the blade out from his side and he whimpers in pain.

“Wh-why do you care?” Roy grunts as he tries to wriggle back and forth. There is no escape for him.

“When are you gonna learn that I ask, and you—” I crouch down and drag the knife through his Achilles tendon on his right leg. He screams as I cut through, severing the tendon completely. “Answer the fucking question.” I do the same to his left tendon and his foot flops forward.

“Not running anywhere now.”

“Now that we have established that you aren’t fucking running away.” The sinister chuckle escapes my lips. I straddle his lap. “Tell me. Did you fuck her from behind like the disgusting animal you are? Or was something like this?" I pull his face up so he can look into my eyes and he tries to keep them pinned elsewhere. “Too much for you? Having to look into her eyes while you took a little piece of her soul from her?”

“You crazy fucking bitch,” he coughs up some blood on to my shirt, thrusting his hips forward to buck me off.

Ugh…there goes another shirt.

“Take this nice and slow, Nova. Savor it. We don’t know when we will have the opportunity to have this much freedom in a kill. It’s so nice and secluded here. I’ll bet nobody will even hear him scream.”

“You and I are going to have so much fun, Mousey.” I climb off his lap and head over to the old wooden table that holds all the treasures I’ve found. “Let’s start this off with a little pleasurefor me...and a whole lotta pain for you.” I hold up the shards of broken glass and smile.

His screams aremusic to my ears, the sweetest symphony of notes that meld with every drop of blood that hits the floor. Cut after cut, I dig into his flesh. Carving letter after letter until his flesh stings with his sins, his crimes. His body is a bloody canvas with words written all over him. Bastard. Abuser. Rapist. Child Abuser. Misogynist. Sadist. Pig.

Over and over, I carve each one into a different part of his body.

I want the world to know exactly what he was when they find his body.

“If they find his body, that is.”

“You think the words you say to us don’t hurt. They don’t burrow deep inside our minds, gnawing at the very essence of us. But they do. I’m sure the woman who loved you and gave herself to you is repressing so many things inside her pretty head. All the vile, disgusting things you said to her. The words you’ve whispered in her ear while you raped her, the insults you’ve hurled at her.” I dig the glass deeper into his skin and he grits his teeth to try to keep his screams at bay.

"Aw, come on, baby.” I taunt. “Scream for me.”

I trail the glass down to his cock and grab ahold of it.

“No, no… please. Don’t touch it.” He whimpers, trying to scoot the chair backwards but with his Achilles severed, he just yells in pain.

“Hmm, this won’t work.” Looking over the pathetic, flaccid skin in my palm.

“He needs to get hard first.”

Ugh… fine.

I spit into my palm and begin to stroke him; his eyes snap down and he winces with each hard tug of his cock. Feeling him twitch in my palm as the blood begins to rush exactly where I need it to. "Strange, isn’t it? How you can get hard for someone who is hurting you, someone who is taking from you without consent.”

He sucks in a staggered breath as his body trembles.

“Almost like your mind says no but your body can’t stop what it does naturally. Right, Roy? Just because your cock gets hard doesn’t mean you want it.”

“R-right.” He’s on the verge of coming, the sick son of a bitch.

“Yet men tell women that if they’re wet when they get raped, it’s because they wanted it.” I stop stroking him once he’s hard enough for me to continue with my plan.

“Le-let me come at least. If you're gonna kill me... at least give me that.”

“Is he really trying to bargain with you right now? So he can bust a nut before he dies... Jesus fucking Christ.”