Page 12 of Cry Baby
“No!”
Biggie woke up screaming.
Again.
At first, it was a wet groan somewhere behind me while I tightened the chain around the iron ring in the basement floor. The sound climbed higher, and I could hear the panic clawing its way up his throat until it turned into full sobbing.
So.
Loud.
And.
Messy.
Pathetic.
I sighed and leaned back on my heels.
“Seriously?”
The basement smelled like the usual damp stone and rust. The single light bulb swung above us and was throwing the shadows across the walls in long, crooked fingers.
Biggie pulled against the chain around his ankle.
“Please…please. Man, please…”
I rubbed my temple, catching the glint of metal on his chain, and began counting the loops visible in the light.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six
And a half.
“You’ve said that already.”
His eyes darted around the room, looking for a way out of my hell. The hooks in the ceiling made a soft clink as I swayed them to his frantic blubbering. The wooden table in the corner was more decoration than function.
Natalie liked to put her foot on it when I ate her, that bitch. The plastic bag in the corner really caught his attention, and finally, his eyes wavered and fell to the drain in the center of the room. It remained rusted with my blood.
His breathing went sharp and shallow as he tried to back away from the large void in the room.
“I got kids,” he choked.
I tilted my head, those glinting metal loops catching my attention again.
Why is it that only half of them show?
“That’s unfortunate.”
