In
spite of the cramping in her neck, Marie lifted her head as far as it would go to
see what new hellish game her captor was playing. The knife he’d been holding
earlier was glowing red in the flame of his kitchen torch. When she cried out
in terror, his eyes lit up like child’s on Christmas morning.
“I-I think we got off on the wrong
foot here. Let’s just start over, ‘kay?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Pet?
Even now, I can see the defiance in your eyes because I dared to call you pet.”
His
snort of derision acted as punctuation, signaling emphasis on her new moniker. Not
once, while he was speaking did he remove his blade from the torch flame’s
caress. Each second felt like an eternity as Marie waited for her captor to
speak again.
“I saw something in a movie once and
I’ve always wanted to try it.”
His
words barely registered with Marie; her eyes were focused on the glowing red
blade drawing closer to her. With his free hand, he gripped her forehead so
forcefully it felt as if he was trying to squeeze Marie’s brain out through her
ears. She could not turn her head no matter how hard she tried. Still, the
searing hot blade came closer and closer to her face. Tears flowed freely down
her cheeks as she begged him to let her go. An evil laugh, sinister enough to
sound like it came from the depths of hell itself bubbled up from his cruel
core, drowning out the sounds of her pleas.
“I wonder if it really will pop,” he
whispered in her ear.
Before
she could ask what he’d meant, a searing hot explosion of pain rippled from the
top of her head to the tips of her toes. Violent red bursts of color filled her
field of vision blocking everything but the pain until the darkness swallowed
her.
“Well, that was disappointing, pet.
In the movie, the bad guy said the hot blade was supposed to make the victim’s
eyeball heat up and then burst like a piece of popcorn. There was no bursting…just
blood and oozing gunk. I suspect you’ll be unconscious for a while. Sleep well
for tomorrow is another day.”
vvvvv
It
was after two AM when Melanie’s car pulled into the driveway. She had ignored
Seth’s texts all evening and fully expected him to be angry. Instead, the
second she clicked on the light in their kitchen she noticed the vase full of
roses. A box of her favorite gourmet truffles was propped next the champagne
bucket they’d received as a wedding gift, years prior. Beads of condensation shimmered
on the bottle’s slender neck and two of their crystal flutes patiently waited
for a taste of the golden bubbly. Seth had fallen asleep at the kitchen table,
his face mottled and marred by the textured table cloth. Malachi had flopped on
the floor by his master’s feet. As Melanie, stepped closer she placed a gently
kiss on Seth’s forehead and helped him to bed. This worked out best. Now I don’t have to explain where I was and what
I was doing…at least not tonight, she decided before crawling into bed next
to her husband.
***As a side note, I'd like to apologize for leaving you hanging last night. My internet was acting up and I was unable to post. Thank you for sharing your time with Seth, Angela, Kim, Bill, the "Pets", and "Him".***
***As a side note, I'd like to apologize for leaving you hanging last night. My internet was acting up and I was unable to post. Thank you for sharing your time with Seth, Angela, Kim, Bill, the "Pets", and "Him".***
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