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He’s so fucking sick.
“I don’t think this is working. Maybe we need something, a little more convincing,” he muses. A grin slowly creeps across his face and he spins around, hovering over the table once more.
“Ah yes, this will do,” turning back around, he strides toward me carrying a long, curved blade, easily nine inches long. He removes the stun baton from my hands, and places the handle of the knife in my grip.
My stomach flops and I feel my heart fall from my chest. “W-what am I supposed to do with this?” I choke out, my voice barely a whisper.
“Oh, Travis… you peel back his flesh, of course.”
“I w-wh…” the words won’t come out. I had to hear him wrong. He couldn’t have actually said that. Am I hearing shit now? That’s what it is. I must be hearing shit. I’ve officially gone delirious.
“Peel. Back. His. Flesh.” He repeats himself, sharply punctuating each word for added enunciation. As if the pauses will make the words sink in more clearly.
“I ca-can’t d-d-“ I’m stuttering over my words, trying not to cry.
“That’s fine, guess I can just peel back hers if y-“
“Stop!” I scream. “Stop talking about her. Stop goddamnit!” spit flies from my lips as I yell, rage coursing through my veins that he keeps mentioning her, using her as leverage to break me.
He chuckles and looks me over.
“What’s it gonna be kid?”
Turning, I face the chained man and hold the sharp edge of the blade against his chest with my shaking hand. He looks up into my eyes, and it’s a punch to my gut.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, as I press in and drag the blade down, slicing skin from his chest. I’m not prepared for the amount of blood that seeps from the wound, or for the way his skin feels beneath my fingertips. It’s doesn’t even feel real.
The man wails loudly as I slice another strip of his skin away, dropping it to the ground next to him. “I don’t have a name! I don’t have a name for you! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” his agonizing shrieks infiltrate my ears and I hear my dad chuckling behind me between the shrieks and rattling of the chains.
“If you truly don’t know anything, then I guess you’re of no use to me. Travis, finish it. And quickly, I have things to do tonight.”
Facing him, I ask the question with my eyes because I can’t say it out loud. Kill someone? Me?
“I said, kill him,” he grits.
Tears roll down my cheeks, and I lift the knife, positioning the tip at the center of his chest. “I’m so, so sorry… I’m… I’m sorry.” I whisper the words over and over as my eyes blur with tears and I plunge the knife down with force. He screams as I drag the blade down, ripping his chest and stomach wide open. When I meet resistance, I stop, both hands still holding the grip of the knife. My stomach churns as blood pours from the open wound like a running faucet.
Bile rushes up the back of my throat. I drop the knife to cover my mouth with my hands but when I look down at the sticky crimson covering my skin, I can’t hold back anymore. Acid and leftover pizza spew from my mouth, all over the dead man, all down the front of my shirt. Everywhere. I watch the blood and vomit mix together on the concrete floor.
“Goddamn it Travis. You’re gonna have to learn to control yourself. Can’t be leaving fucking DNA behind if you’re out in the real world doing this shit. Go clean yourself up.”
“Y-yes sir,” I manage to choke out. I turn and head for the old bathroom on the other side of the room when I hear, “And Travis?”
Stopping in my tracks, I respond quietly without turning around, “Yeah?”
“I’m proud of you boy. I know you’ll do the Brotherhood right.”
And the vomit tries to claw its way up once more.
Chapter three
Spencer
“Daddy, please,” I choke out between sobs.
Uncle Evan stands in the doorway, having just set down his own bags, but the driver hasn’t left yet, because he’s waiting for my dad. Sighing audibly, my dad pinches the bridge of his nose and stops in front of the door.
Setting his bags down, he grips my shoulders, his stern eyes meeting my blurred ones, “Spencer, enough. You’re acting like a child. Get it together and quit with the tears.”