I noticed that the bottles
of water that I’d left to keep Mandy hydrated remained untouched.
“If you do not drink a bottle of water right now; I will
be forced to resort to crueler measures. My aunt was the sickly type, always in
the hospital. She said having IVs in the foot was incredibly painful. I’ve never inserted an IV but I’d be happy to
learn. I’m sure I could find a YouTube video or something.”
Mandy picked up the bottle of vitamin water
and drank- staring daggers at me as he did. It occurred to me that forcing him
to keep himself alive to endure more torture was the cruelest of my tricks.
Water dribbled out through the scabs at his cheeks, reminding me of a faulty
sprinkler, a rusty one at that. I could see infection festering in the finger
where I’d ripped off Mandy’s nail. I hadn’t had the chance to properly
disinfect it since Sherry had arrived unexpectedly. Knowing my endeavor to remove the infection
would be excruciating; I implemented additional restraints of his arms and
legs.
My little first aid kit sat on the shelf
far from my captive’s reach. I had no doubt he’d eagerly ingest everything
inside on the off-chance it might end his pathetic existence. It was chock-full
of all those dreaded, tried and true, first aid remedies of my grandmother’s
generation. Iodine, yes, that would serve my purpose for the moment. I grabbed
one of those firm bristle scrub brushes (typically used for manicures and
pedicures) drenched it in iodine, and starting scrubbing away the pus and
infected tissue. The stench was revolting and the blubbering from my patient
was worse.
Try as I might, the scrubbing didn’t seem
to remove all of the embedded infection so I sterilized an X-acto knife and cut
away the damaged tissue. It was the closest I could come to a scalpel without
drawing unwanted suspicion. It has a finer blade than a standard utility knife
and, personally, I feel it has finer precision. It was then that a truly dark
idea presented in my mind. Out of curiosity, I slipped the blade underneath the
first few layers of skin beyond the nail bed of Mandy’s finger. Once there was
enough of a flap to hold onto, I used the blade to keep peeling back the folds
of skin.
Amazingly, Mandy didn’t feel it at first.
It wasn’t until the air really had a chance to hit the exposed skin that the
stinging, burning, pain set a chain reaction through his nerve endings.
“I
wonder which stings worse, Iodine or Isopropyl Alcohol. Perhaps we should
conduct a scientific experiment.”
Mandy’s eyes widened to
roughly the size of a softball. He whimpered and begged but that meant nothing
to me. I peeled the skin off his pinky-finger exactly the same way I’d done on
his index finger. It wasn’t until I took the lids off both bottles that Mandy
went into self-preservation mode. He thrashed violently, trying to break free
from his restraints. His reaction amused me. I was pleased to see he still had
a bit of fight left. I forced his hand down and poured Iodine over the pinky
finger. Mandy’s bladder emptied all over himself before he lost consciousness.
I’d have to wait until later for the second half of my experiment.
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