Page 11

He passes out, despite the bright lights in his eyes. It must be from sheer exhaustion and pain.

I wait for a moment, ruffling through my various purchases before I decide to finish off pulling his nails out and maybe adding some more decorative burns to his arms.

I need him awake, though. Awake and aware.

I pause on a thought as I think of a supplier who can drop something off in my mailbox that could help me keep Boy alive for the week. I retrieve my phone and text The Pharmacist. This isn’t the same pharmacist who helped me at the store. This is a backdoor kind of guy who can get me the drugs I need.

Adrenaline.

Just like adrenaline.

Once I’ve texted him to drop it off in a wrapped container in my mailbox, I go back to the boy, who is stirring now, and I pick up the pliers. I don’t even wait until he’s fully awake before I start pulling out the nails on his other foot.

He cries out. No… he screams.

I don’t know how he is managing it with his broken ribs. It’s not particularly loud, but it’s impressive, nonetheless.

As I work, I hum the lullaby. I scold myself. I can’t get distracted with thoughts of what Shiloh is doing while I’m busy with a contract.

Once the nails ripped from his toes. I set the pliers down and grab medical supplies and a chair. I set the chair next to his leg.

“Don’t move. I don’t want to mess this up.”

I hear him groan as I take out a scalpel and fit a clean blade.

I’m almost tempted to give him something to bite down on. But I like the sound of his screams and I’m not merciful in general.

He wanted to suffer. It was his request.

I lean on the flesh of his thigh and start to carefully carve out the first letter of a word. I don’t want to cut too deep, and I use alcohol swabs to wipe the blood away as it flows.

I peel the skin off delicately and look at the flesh underneath. Healthy pink flesh. I start with the next letter. He is crying again. But this time he sounds angry when he speaks to me.

“You bitch. Let me go. Let me the fuck go!”

“Now, now, swearing at me will win you no points,” I say calmly. “And don’t move, otherwise I’ll have to start fresh on the inside of your leg.”

He’s too weak to move, to resist what I’m doing as I lift the next piece of skin off and wipe with an alcohol swab.

I begin the next letter. I concentrate deeply as I carve into him, removing just the skin to spell out the word he said to me.

Sister.

Although it would have been fun to try it in a more cursive font than just the neat print, I’ve done it in all capitals.

I take the excess skin and stand up, moving to his head. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” he gasps out.

“Then eat.” I hold the skin to his lips.

“No…”

I force it into his mouth. “Eat it.”

I put a hand over his mouth so he can’t spit it out. He gags and I smile down at him. “You’re going to eat it all, and if you throw it up, I’ll feed that to you too. So, choose your poison carefully, Boy.”

“My name is…” he tries to say.

“No,” I say sternly. “I don’t care what your name is. You are Boy. That is all you are. You will never be more than that to anyone.”

He swallows and gags again, but I’m already shoving the next piece of flesh into his mouth. He tries to bite my finger, but I’m too fast for him. “Now, now. You don’t want me to remove your teeth just yet, do you?”

I keep my hand over his mouth as he chews and swallows.

“Four more pieces to go,” I coo softly.

It takes the better part of a half an hour to get him to swallow all the pieces, but he does, and then I offer him some more water.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks. “How demented are you?”

“I’m not demented,” I say harshly. “But when you make a contract with me, it’s binding. You wanted this. That’s why I’m doing this. You asked me for this, and you followed me into this room. I didn’t force you to find me. I didn’t force you to come in here. You sought me out.”

“I didn’t know…” he cries. “I didn’t understand.”

“Too bad,” I say. “Let this be a valuable lesson to you about keeping your word when you make an agreement.”

I wash up and pack everything neatly away for the night. “I’ll see you tomorrow night. Rest if you can.”

“Please turn the lamps off,” he groans. “I’m begging you.”

“No,” I say calmly. “Enjoy.”

I leave and go downstairs to my car. I get in and sit back, sighing quietly. That was a relief. It wasn’t too late to get home, and maybe if Kerri and Shiloh are quiet tomorrow, I can sleep in a little, though I doubt I will. I need to make sure Shiloh is practicing and is ready by the end of the week. I hate that she’s leaving it to the last minute, but I trust that she’ll do it.

She always does what Mommy tells her to.

I start my car and drive home, ready for a hot shower and my bed. When I get there, I check on Kerri, who is asleep on the sofa again and still in one piece. I go downstairs to the basement and find the machete on the table where I left it. No further wood has been chopped.

I pause by Shiloh’s bedroom and look in on my sleeping angel. I don’t want her to disappoint me. She is my everything.

Everything that I could possibly want.