Chapter 51: Chapter 51st
Eventually, the crying stopped. The kicking and groaning ceased, and by the end of those lengthy minutes, the cop lay on the floor, coughing, breathless. His swollen red eyes inevitably met mine, and I cringed before them, ashamed of turning away. But turn away I did, with significant delay: Having tired out this amusement, Chris turned his attentions back to me.
"I'm starting to think one of two things…" he exhaled, tired of the effort. "Either that's a really small transmitter… or you've lied to me."
Our eyes met, and his lingered there, feeding the suspense. I don't know around what my thoughts revolved then, or what I would eventually say, but Chris decided to give it another change – to torture me some more.
"I guess not." He sighed, turning back to the cop. "I do trust you: it must be hidden here somewhere. Deep… skin deep, maybe." He paused, insinuating something as he surveyed. "I'll defer it to you, Abby: Where do you think it is?"
Breaking eye contact with my defeated, guiltless companion, I looked at Chris - the feat made so much easier in comparison: fear had a way of turning into anger when so ruthlessly exercised!
"No clue?" in face of my silence, Chris proceeded, pulling the knife from the back of his pants and holding it upwards for display. "That's okay. We'll just have to search some more. Nothing some flaying won't bring to the surface, of course!" he suggested, his voice inflexible and cruel.
I could tell what he did now. I experienced every pang of the humiliation it brought, with every wet cough the wounded cop choked on as he lay on the floor. My heart felt like it had sunk really deep, and in that ravine I found more pain than I'd experienced before, but I was strangely freed from my urge to cry.
"Where should I start…" Crouched before the cop, he pondered, moving the knife about him. The latter, half-conscious, shuddered and curled, begging.
That sound again… of his sobbing voice, of his wet pleads… it was too much for me to bear a second round.
"Arms, maybe?"
"It's – it's not there!" I cried at last.
As Chris turned his mocking, knowing expression to me, I experience shame – from being caught in a lie? Or from finally exposing all the vain suffering I'd put the cop through? I wasn't sure.
"Oh? It's not? And you've known that for a fact?" he frowned teasingly "For how long?"
"Please…" I dropped my head, not knowing what else to say.
"Is there something you'd like to tell us, Abby, darling? We're waiting… Aren't we, coper boy?"
I looked at them – at the pair of them, one lifting his languid head to look at me through the lens of confusion and a wounded iris; the other staring with the hardened, impassive eyes of a cruel judge. It gave me the strange impression they teamed up against me…
…Certainly, the cop wouldn't be teaming up with me after knowing that!
"Huh!" Unrelentless, Chris only gave me enough time to droop my head "I'm starting to think there's no such thing as a transmitter…"
He turned to look at the cop's collapsed form once more, feigning pity.
"What a cruel prank! Well, just to make sure… perhaps I should search you next?" And he turned towards me again.
That threat, however, found no resonance in me – not after the torture I'd been subjected to. I almost wished he would bring me to a similar state, as if that would lower the burden of guilt. Yes… it sounded adequate. I found myself standing up to receive it – to greet it with an eager breast.
"I do think I have it somewhere." The words boldly escaped me through a clenched, nervous jaw.
But I was beginning to learn that looking into my eyes and finding no sign of what he intended to find was the surest way to inflame Chris out of his usual upbeat charm. He stood slowly, weighing his piercing eyes on me with all their nefarious threats. I willed myself to stand my ground and stare back.
"Look at that: a heroic feat at last. Better late than never…" he sneered.
I sighed, experiencing the pang of guilt before deciding to deflect it, only to be able to respond his angry stare as I did.
"You have it then. Alright. I'll bite: Where should I look?"
The small knife in his hand… I watched it with growing tension. But I closed my eyes and resisted the urge to take a step back. I opened them again, deciding it couldn't hurt too much:
"Right here…" I offered up my bound wrists "…but dig deep, I'm sure its there somewhere, under all that blood!" I clenched my jaw. Dying, it seems – prematurely so, at least – was the biggest spite I could offer at that point!
"Ah, of course. Under an artery, I suppose?" he paced closer.
"Precisely!" I cocked my head, twisting my lips into what I expected was a teasing, confident smile, before Chris was next to me, watching me, encircling me – then I knew my face couldn't possibly look calm.
"Arteries are some rather rubbery tubes…" he pronounced lowly, walking behind my back, where I couldn't see him, couldn't read his eyes, the tension grew bigger "…you think I can't cut around it and leave it intact?"
My offered-up wrists, the ones I maintained there as a token of courage… they stung spontaneously at the mental picture.
"…think I'm not skilled enough to separate each layer of flesh all the way to the bone, drawing very little blood?"
I felt my chin quiver. I pursed my lips, hardened my muscles, tried to fight it…the growing shakes.
"Of course…that would take a lot of time. And a world of pain…" Chris paced back into view, stopping at my side and watching me closely "But I assure you it can be done." He spoke into my ear, before gently touching the coldness of that blade against my bravely offered skin.
I gasped and pulled my arm away, as if hit with a shock. It felt humiliating – deep defeat, to not even be allowed to keep my dignity. I panted, nervous and angry, and lunged at him next.
"You sick, sick son of a bitch!"
Chris watched, allowing me to administer three angry blows at his chest, before he too seemed to lose his control, when he grabbed me unpredictably and, like a runaway train, drove me into the darkness of the basement. I braced myself, but it didn't protect me from hurting when he pushed me up a wall.
Holding me there, he finally panted, his own irritation surfacing, bubbling:
"Ah yes… I almost forget: You actually do believe you're smarter than the rest of us, don't you?"
I opened my eyes, stared deeply into his… scowled.
"And here I was thinking you were enjoying yourself through this little game – After all, what else could you have in mind – what else but mild, careless fun?" he propped, seeking to hurt me some other way "You couldn't possibly think it would work, could you? Couldn't possibly expect any other outcome than me punishing your helpless cop friend! No… you didn't: I can see it in your eyes. Do share, now that I've done the deed, what have I done it for: Do you resent him for failing to protect you, maybe?" I squeezed my eyes shut as I heard the cop coughing… fearing he could hear us. Fearing he could not. Chris pushed me harder against the wall, until I cried out.
"Huh? No? Well… Are you punishing him for being interested in you, maybe? I mean, that can't be right: the guy's at least 20 years old!"
I threw my head to the side, wishing he would respect it: my accepting defeat.
"Not that either? What was it, then, huh?" he chased relentlessly, lowering his head to level with mine "Did you hope I would beat him senseless and tire myself out in the process? Take it all out on him and leave nothing for you?..." a grin, his eyes surveying me in silence, before coolly declaring "Well, I'm just getting warmed up!"
"So am I!" I had the audacity of saying… sprung up from God knows where! Rage alone? Raw, pungent rage!
Chris pressed me harder against the wall, his face poised exactly before mine, challenging my small bursts of courage:
"I wouldn't count on that!" he guaranteed "This sour outcome you closed your eyes not to see is the last bit of triumph you'll experience in your life…" His eyes sought mine, hunting down all traces of hope and annihilating it with his guaranteed darkness "I'll enjoy making sure of it!"
He let go of me abruptly, prompting me to fall down to the floor, then he paced slowly around the basement, between the two of us, watching our states – physical and mental breakdown, respectively. A defeated pair, his prey, sprawled across the floor alive and kicking… but ultimately helpless against him. I knew the image pleased him… I could see it in his eyes. I only wished I had seen that sick light sooner…
"No more games from you. No more indulging in your little desperate attempts just to watch you lose your bearings over and over again… It's starting to tire me… like watching a bunny run around the same cage thinking it will eventually get out. You won't get out: not alive. I figure you're old enough for me to tell you that! And to prove to you I mean business…" he sighed, tranquilly, decided: "I'm gonna kill your friend right now."
I felt my heart stop.
"And that's going to be on you. His death will be your fault. His tarnished, disgraced name… your fault too. And to all his family, and whoever else walks in this house to find the bloody pair of you, it will look as if you yourself killed him. But we will know it wasn't so… not literally, at least. Indirectly? Yes."
As I dropped my head, he paced about me, determined to bring me lower:
"I want you to think about that. To process it with whatever you have left, while I take my time with you. How is that for being merciful? Huh? …Don't you wish you had just followed me quietly upstairs? That doesn't seem so bad in retrospect now, does it?" He crouched down to level with me, and he picked my chin between his fingers and pulled it up when I had no strength to raise my head "Perspective is a bitch, isn't it?"
I tried to punch him… too slow! Too weak! All I managed was to topple forward, as he dodged and stood up, then left the room, climbing the stairs swiftly.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone