I ignore the voice in my head entirely. Eyes locked with Nathaniel’s as I try to take charge of our little stare-off. I’m not stupid enough to ignore the fact that I am currently chained to the ceiling and unable to escape, but allowing that realisation to take hold of my brain will leave me the scared little girl that he has been waiting for. I’ll deny him whatever I can until my last breath. If I see the light of day again, I’ll make sure to have Caroline addperseverance in the face of adversityto my permanent record, right above the add-on ofmost likely to be druggedbecause that shit seems to be a regular occurrence of late.
‘The psycho chops off heads for fun; adversity is the least of your problems.’
“I wouldn’t say no to another addition to my collection,” he teases as he pushes a gurney across the room. The creaking wheels drowning out the monotonous chiming that I can still hear in the background from the next room.
Five hessian bags stand tall, centred neatly in a row on the buffed steel top.
“Our first contestant: Elisa Wren. She likes long walks in the park, cuddles with her dog Sandy, and she found out the hard way that jujitsu is no match for a hunting knife.” He grins as he pulls the first bag up to reveal the putrescent remains of Elisa Wren’s head, the soft tissue almost completely eroded as parts of her skull are visible. Megan wretches as the smell of decomposing flesh wafts our way. She turns away and closes her eyes, and I can’t blame her. I choose to play his game and entertain his little presentation. I’ve seen the evil that lives inside this man. The more I find out about who he is now, is another step closer to outsmarting him.
“Contestant number two: Emma Walker. Pretty as a peach and the apple of her father’s eye.” The second bag is lifted to reveal Emma’s soft features marred with deep slashes around her mouth, the exposed cartilage almost black at the edges. “Sadly, she no longer has eyes,” he adds with a mock pout, and the urge to stab him grows like a fire in my belly. The hollow pockets where her eyes once were are lined with jagged skin that looks like beaten leather.
“Third up, the delightfully obtuse Esme Winthorp; she, as your friend will confirm, was a snooty bitch who offered me a fuck tonne of money to let her live. The earrings I pawned got me fifteen grand, so there was that win. Moral of the story: don’t try to bribe a serial killer. We’re pretty much in it for the torture.”
The second her face is revealed, Megan throws up the contents of her stomach, angling herself as best she can soshe doesn’t get chunks all down herself. Of the three, she looks the most life-like, her hair still intact, her grey eyes glassy like a doll’s.
“Not the prettiest sight but still fresh enough.”
“These were people,” I snap through gritted teeth, the persistent acidic odour of putrefaction filling my nose and making me gag. Unease skitters up my spine like a flash of electricity when he laughs heartily at my statement.
He pulls the final three sacks off in quick succession, as though his little dating game reveal is boring him.
“Miss Waters, Miss Wright, and finally, sweet little Enid—she was actually the hardest to kill.” He ponders what he’s said as he caresses her mottled blue skin, his thumb gliding over what’s left of her parted lips.
“Oh, the killer with a heart,” I clap back sardonically.
“No, I mean she was pretty quick, almost outran me. Hard to run with a knife through your skull though.” He swivels Enid’s head to the side to show us the gaping wound.
“You’ve lost the fucking plot.”
“That would suggest I had a plot to begin with. You started this little story in motion the day you and the brothers tried to burn me alive,” he seethes, his face so close to mine, I can taste the cigar smoke on his breath.
“Why is there a seventh bag?” My tone never waivers. Megan sobs beside me, her body shuddering as she tries to turn away from the heads staring at us. That car crash appeal drawing in her gaze as she groans.
“Ahh,” is all he says as he shuffles across the room to chest freezer, opening the concertina door partially toreveal the body of a young woman hung at an awkward angle from a metal hook inserted through her neck.
I don’t react, and for a brief second, I swear I see a flash of disappointment morph his expression. Even all the scarring can’t hide the need he has for my reactions. “You didn’t display her like all the rest?” It’s naive of me to think showing an interest in this psycho’s extracurricular activities will save my life, but if keeping him talking buys us some time to think up a plan, then it’s worth it.
“She was meant to be your replacement; headless, she was a perfect match, but then someone went and gave you your artwork. Tattooing skin after rigor mortis has set in would raise alarm bells, and I didn’t need that. Thanks to your men, she is now no longer useful to me. I don’t expect her parents thought their darling daughter would be reduced to fire feed.” He grins callously as he spins the corpse, the metal chains creaking as flecks of disturbed ice rain down around her body onto the floor like some fucked-up snow globe display.
“They will come for us, you know that, right?” I voice the thought and immediately regret it as mirth dances in his hollow gaze.
Pulling the freezer door open wider, my heart plummets in my chest, the tears falling down over my cheeks when I see Caleb and Cooper strung up by their throats, their feet teetering on stools that rock under them as they almost lose their balance at the sight of me.
“Fucker!” I yell, the tears unleased as I sob and thrash.
The heavy sigh of bliss falls from Nathaniel’s lips as he admires me with adoring eyes. I’ve finally given him what he wants. He reaches over and presses a button on Cooper’s watch; all this time that monotonous chiming had been coming from him. Sorrowful stares meet mine, and we silently share the comfort we each know we desperately need.
“So what? You’re going to keep us locked up here until you can find another victim? Someone will notice we’re missing. They will come looking for us.” I protest, cataloguing all the facts as to why I’m lying out of my arse when I look to each living person in the room. Caleb and Cooper have no parents, and the carnival will be moving along soon. Mateo would kick up a fuss about Megan, but who would listen? Her parents are as good as dead to her. And then there’s me. Caroline would tire of the search eventually, branding me a runaway who couldn’t cut the stresses of university and did what I did best and got out of dodge.
A fool would interpret his silence as a win, but I know this man better than most. The evil smirk tugging at what remains of the prosthetic glue around his eyes crinkles at the exertion as he gets in close to my face, that familiar scent of old cigar smoke clawing at my throat as I turn my face away from him, my belly roiling at the memories attached to that scent. “I opted for plan B. I knew there was a reason I bunked you girls together. The universe has been giving with both hands today.” My eyes snap open as I watch him tug at Megan’s bloodstained shirt, buttons flying off and revealing the freshly inked tattoo that is a replica of the one the guys engraved into my skin.“It helps when you’re a scholar of the arts, and unconscious clientele squirm less.”
Megan shudders at the realisation that while she wasout, he had free roam of her body, and I can’t blame her. The shiver that snakes its way up my spine is testament enough that we are running out of options here.
‘We don’t give up. We never give up.’
A thump from the floor above us has everyone glancing up at the ceiling.
“Now sit here like a good girl, I won’t be long. I think we have company.”
