Page 81 of Mimic

This is about Jack. Jack wants to see what I can do, which means I have to keep him alive long enough to get through all my options. I’m not sure that’s possible, but I am always up for a challenge.

I quickly opted to strip the man of his clothes and hand them to Jack through the bars. Jack smiled at me, and I nodded again.

The man lay at my feet as I circled around him.

Fingers or toes?

When he pushed his hands to the floor trying to lift himself, the answer was obvious. Fingers first. I grabbed the index finger on his left hand and twisted. The small crack couldn’t be heard over the man’s screams, but I felt it.

I moved to the next and continued on until I worked my way through every finger until the last. The small finger on his righthand. I held it between my own and looked over my shoulder at Jack, expecting praise. He didn’t disappoint. His smile was wide as he nodded.

I wrenched the finger, tearing the skin at the webbing. Blood spurted over my hands as I dropped the man’s hand to the ground. Picking up the other hand, I lifted his arm, and with his elbow resting on my thigh, I bent it back. The cracking of his bones echoed around the room amid the groans of the men outside the cell.

Fingers: check

Arm: check

The man lay on his back, his naked body dotted with sweat. I circled him again, thinking about where to strike next. I wanted to rip his dick off. Only we weren’t allowed to touch it. I frowned, jumping back when the yellow liquid sputtered from the offending member.

I looked back at Jack, willing him to give me permission. He shook his head but said, “Not yet.”

“What the fuck are you doing, Jack?”

Jack ignored the man and lifted his chin at me, telling me to continue. I grabbed the man’s foot, holding his leg upright. With a quick twist, his ankle gave way, hanging loosely.

The man’s body lay crumpled at my feet. His appendages lying in unnatural positions.

“Is that all you can do?” Jack asked. When I shook my head, he asked, “What do you need?”

My brows furrowed. He asked me a question, but I wasn’t allowed to speak. “Do you need a weapon?” I quickly nodded. But again, dropped my eyes when he asked, “What kind?”

This was a trick. A ploy designed to trap me. I’d learned my lesson though. I would never open my mouth. Speaking meant punishment, and I was the punisher.

“How about a knife?”

My head snapped up, and I smiled. Nodding my head vigorously, I moved to the bars. With my hands at my sides, I waited for my tool.

“Blade, give her your knife.”

“What? Why?”

“Give her the fucking knife, asshole. I want to see what she does with it.”

“You’re enjoying this a little too much.”

Blade held the knife between the bars, and as soon as my fingers touched the hilt, he snatched his hand back as if I might cut it off.

We were only allowed to practice on our victims. Any deviation from our lessons garnered severe punishment. I held the blade, twirling it between my fingers, before tossing it from one hand to the other, then turning back to my prize.

I quickly got to work, meticulously removing the fingers I had broken and tossing them into a pile by the bars. The toes quickly followed.

I worked my way in, severing arteries, disconnecting tissue and tendons until his arms and legs were added to my offering in pieces, severed at each joint.

Next were his eyes. The man was dead now. There was no point in waiting. The tongue was next. I glared at his penis. The one thing I wasn’t allowed to remove.

Looking up at Jack, I pleaded with my eyes. It was worth the punishment if I could only convince him to let me take him completely apart.

“That’s enough, Kate.”