Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
He starts to squirm in his restraints, moaning again, pleading with words I don’t care to understand.
“I’m not big on socializing,” I tell him. “So, if you decide you’re ready to admit the truth, I want you to tap your foot on the floor three times, but only when you’re truly willing.” I hold the knife up to his throat. “If you lie to me or waste my time, I guarantee the price will be more than you are able to pay.”
He falls completely still, and I return the knife to my tool kit, retrieving the plastic case of carbon steel hooks.
“I hear you’re a fan of fishing.” I pluck a hook from the case and examine it between my fingers. “You’ve probably filleted quite a number of them, I would imagine. I’m curious, though, if you keep them all for yourself, or do you prefer to catch and release?”
He mumbles a response, and when I turn around again, sweat is beading on his brow. He’s renewed his fight against the restraints, straining his arms and his legs as I approach.
“I’m not big on fish myself,” I confess as I grab his face and poke the barbed point against his cheek. “I think perhaps it’s the texture or the smell. It doesn’t appeal to me.”
He screeches as the hook pierces his flesh, his nostrils flaring as blood drips down his neck. His muffled pleas resume, but he hasn’t reached a point of desperation to tap out. It’s human nature to want to believe our love and loyalty for our family will outweigh any adversity, but I know intimately that this is simply not true. Soon, he will understand there is nothing to be gained by trying to prevent his brother’s fate.
I continue my task, spearing him with a fistful of hooks, decorating his cheeks like a tacky Christmas ornament. After about two minutes, I suspect his adrenaline is primed, and he’s not feeling the same rush of fear as he did initially, so it’s time to move on. I discard the hooks and reach for the filet knife once again.
“Death by a thousand cuts,” I murmur, examining my reflection in the shiny blade. “I don’t know that it’s the worst way to die, but I think it might be the most poetic.”
More sniffling, begging, and tears ensue as I proceed to carve him up like a pumpkin, slicing off bits of flesh and tossing them to the floor like meat scraps. I take chunks from his arms and move on to his back, cutting through the shirt to gain access. He vomits five minutes in and then passes out. I take the opportunity to adjust his position for the next phase. Tying the rope around his wrists, I loop it through the ceiling hook and use the pre-existing pulley system to leverage his weight.
As I’m considering rousing him for the sake of efficiency, my phone rings, and I glance at the screen in frustration, only to see Gwen’s name on the display. I step out of the freezer for a moment, shutting the door behind me.
“Gwen,” I answer. “Is everything alright?”
“Oh, yes, of course,” she replies. “It’s been so nice to visit with Nino. We’ve been having such a lovely time together. I do wish I could spend more time with him like this.”
“You know you are free to visit us anytime.” I stare at a cockroach scuttling across the floor, my gaze unfocused.
“I know.” Gwen sniffs. “It’s just … I’m always so sad when I have to leave him.”
Silence lingers as she leaves her thoughts to settle over us. This discussion has been had, and she’s well aware the circumstances won’t change, yet she persists with this topic relentlessly. I won’t remind her that her mental health isn’t up for the challenge, and that it was already with some uncertainty that I’ve even allowed her to look after him during these short trips away. This arrangement has gone on for too long, and as much as she might dislike it, Nino needs the stability of a new live-in caretaker who can be there with him when I am not.
“Marianna has been here helping me.” Gwen lightens her tone, taking on a wistful note. “She is so good with him.”
My fingers stiffen at the mention of her name. “Please thank her for taking time out of her schedule to be there.”
“I’m sure she’d love to hear it from you,” Gwen says. “She adores both of you. And, of course, Nino soaks up the attention. He really does need a mother figure in his life, and I truly wish you would reconsider allowing her to help you.”
I close my eyes and release a quiet breath of frustration. “Is this why you called?”
“Yes,” she confesses. “I know you’re planning to conduct interviews this afternoon, but I must insist you reflect on the impact of hiring outside The Society. I don’t think you’ve fully considered the consequences this could have.”