Page 114 of Mortala
He looks over the tools sitting there, examining each one like he’s deciding which one will be the most entertaining. Then he picks something up. A cigar cutter. My jaw tightens, and the reality of my situation really sets in.
He holds it up, studying it the same way he studied the scalpel, before looking back at me with that same sick smile. “We’ll see how you feel about losing some extremities, hm?”
God fucking damnit.
This motherfucker is actually going to start cutting my fingers off if I don’t find a way out of this chair. The thought settles deep in my stomach, twisting with every second that passes, but I refuse to let him see the fear crawling beneath my skin. I can’t give him that satisfaction, that’s exactly what he wants. He wants to watch me break and see the moment I realize I’m not in control anymore.
I take a slow breath through my nose, forcing myself to calm down despite every instinct in my body screaming at me to fight. I let it out through my mouth, keeping my eyes trained on him while my mind races through every possible option I have left.
There has to be something.
I need to think harder. I need to come up with some kind of plan to get myself out of this chair and get my hands on him before he can hurt me or, worse, before he gets to Maddie. The problem is, I’m tied up, sitting on a chair that’s probably older than I am, with my wrists bound behind my back and my legs secured so tightly that even shifting my weight feels almost impossible.
Think, Miles. Fucking think.
I look back over at Austin and watch as he moves around the medical cart, completely comfortable with the situation he created. Like this is just another day for him and he isn’t standing in front of me preparing to torture me.
My stomach twists when I see him pick up a syringe and a small vial of clear liquid.
What the fuck is that?
He holds the vial upside down, carefully inserting the needle through the rubber stopper and pulling back on the syringe until it begins filling with the liquid inside. His movements are slow and deliberate, almost like he’s putting on some kind of performance for me.
He knows exactly what he’s doing.
He knows I’m watching, and when he looks back at me, I force every emotion off my face. I don’t move or react. I don’t give him anything. Of course I want to know what it is, he knows that too. That’s why his smile grows.
“Do you want to know what this is, Miles?”
I keep staring at him, refusing to answer.
His grin widens as if my silence is exactly the response he expected. “Yeah, I figured.”
He turns the syringe slightly, inspecting the clear liquid inside like it’s something precious.
“This here is adrenaline,” he says, his voice almost cheerful. “Did you know that when the human body experiences enough pain, eventually it starts shutting down? You go into shock. Your brain tries to protect you, so you pass out.”
He looks over at me, waiting for a reaction, but I give him nothing.
“That’s not very fun, though, is it?” he continues, walking closer. “I mean, what’s the point of all this if you don’t get to experience it?”
My jaw tightens, my teeth grinding together in an attempt to stay quiet.
“We’re going to make sure that doesn’t happen.” His eyes darken as he glances down at the syringe. “Wouldn’t want you falling asleep before our?—”
He stops himself, smiling. “Actually, beforemygirl gets here.”
My blood runs cold at the mention of Maddie. He doesn’t say her name, but he doesn’t have to. We both know exactly who he’s talking about.
He finishes filling the syringe before placing the vial back onto the cart. He taps the side of it a few times, forcing the air bubbles out, completely calm and collected while my anger burns hotter with every movement he makes. Then he walksback toward me. The smile disappears from his face, replaced by something much worse. Something empty and twisted.
“Maybe I’ll make you sit here and watch while I take what should’ve always been mine,” he says quietly. “Maybe I’ll make you watch me with her, right here in front of you.”
Every muscle in my body locks up as my stomach threatens to empty its contents.
“How does that make you feel?”
Something inside me snaps, and I spit directly in his face.
