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Infernis – Chapter Sixty-One

August 10, 2013

Got my pills ‘gainst mosquito death

Four times he’d just lied to her. He’d made up answers as long as he could think of just to make the breaks in between longer.

She’d listened when he described in detail his first sexual encounter. The truth was he didn’t really remember it that well, but he did recall some illustrations and photos of penises from a book on sexual physiology that Jaime made him read when they met. He forgot why. The author, a professor at Columbia, was someone to somebody.

Now he was ashes in a heap of rubble. Brian envied him that.

But he had provided much needed detail that, in the dark years ago, Brian hadn’t really noticed. He’d made up that the guy’s penis was curved. Hell, the dude might have even been uncut for all he remembered. But it made a tale that he was desperate enough to believe in order to convince her that it was true.

But he knew that that, too, was a lie. He wasn’t lying to her so much as performing for her. He was a puppet and now she was pulling his strings. He was making stuff up just to entertain her.

This was probably day ten, he thought. Could have been eight. Could have been twelve. They had all started blending together around day six or seven. Sleep deprivation and the psychotic bitch’s irregularity with their sessions had removed all sense of time. There was pain and not-pain. That was all there was to separate the moments.

Now, Kitten, or Cynthia, was pacing around. Never a good sign. Brian braced himself for the inevitable. She had upgraded to a handheld taser that plugged into the wall to be charged. She had also moved on to other parts of Brian’s body and spent most of one session trying to figure out which parts were the most effective.

He was sure he had internal bleeding, likely at least two hernias, and some torn ligaments not to mention the overall pain that turning voluntary muscles into self-damaging involuntary ones inflicted.

He also figured he had a bladder infection. She hadn’t been too careful in the first place and, while she emptied the piss bag at regular intervals, she hadn’t removed the tube. He figured that was a sure sign that she had no intention of letting him live.

The infection was likely spreading. He figured–hoped–his heart would give out in a day or two and that would mean an end to the torture. That was all that mattered.

She stopped and was looking at him. He didn’t dare look her in the eyes.

“You’ve been keeping something from me.”

He staid as still as he could. He tried not to even breathe.

“You’re not really broken, Brian. You know that, right? You’re hanging on to something. You haven’t told me the truth…all of it, have you?”

He didn’t respond.

Don’t tell her.

Are you f***ing kidding?

She’s not going to kill you until she finds out. So don’t tell her.

That supposed to be positive reinforcement? Switch places with me, motherf—

Just don’t tell her. You’re about to win.

Win? Win?!? F—

“Brian. I’m going to be honest with you,” she grabbed the taser and checked it, flicked it on once without making contact. He flinched involuntarily.

She scrunched up her face as if admitting a little white lie, “I am going to kill ya. Our games can’t go on forever, hon. So there’s really no reason not to tell me, is there? You want the pain to end. So just do what I’m asking and it will. It’ll be quick, I promise.”

She’s full of s***. She’s going to make it slow and painful.

Yeah, I get that.

“Brian? Helloooo… You in there? Who you talking to, baby? It’s just you and me. There’s no one else. You see anyone else?”

Brian closed his eyes. He had to. He was afraid that on the one hand, what he’d just seen was likely hallucinatory or, if it wasn’t, he’d give it away. He took a moment to pull what was left of himself together.

Then he opened his eyes. It hadn’t been a trick of his mind after all. There was someone else in here. Likely a man, he was dressed in black from head to toe. He carried something in one hand, but Brian didn’t dare let his eyes dart there lest psycho bitch turn around. The figure moved slowly behind her, silently.

Make it work for you.

There is no one there. There is no one there.

Good. Now give her an answer. Any answer.

He tried to speak. His throat hurt from the screaming that more and more seemed like it was coming from somewhere else…someone else.

Kitten smiled and leaned over to remove the ball gag.

“What was that?”

“I said…”

His voice was so hoarse it felt like he was screaming to get that much out. There was a pause as he tried to swallow.

“Go on.”

It was a baseball bat. Up in the air. Posed to strike like a snake right behind psycho bitch’s head.

“I said, ‘There’s someone behind you.'”

There was a hard cracking sound. At first Brian thought the bat had broken on her head. She was invulnerable to attack. That had to be it.

But then he saw the blood and a few teeth on the floor. The man in black stood over her, chest heaving, looking down on her crumpled form. Triumphant. Likely power drunk judging from the body language.

Jesus Christ. Bat-man. Saved by ‘Batman.'”

Brian chuckled once and passed out.

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From → Infernis, Novels

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