Gripping the bolt cutters in one hand, I drop my head into my free hand and shake my head in irritation before snapping my gaze back to Sam who freezes under my deathly stare. “Fuck. You really are stupid aren’t you?”
“Wha.. what do you mean? I just told you everything I know?”
“Hey Storm.” I turn to Eli over my shoulder. “This guy isn’t only a stupid fucker, but he’s also a liar. Who would have thought?”
“Not me, Viper.” Eli chuckles out.
I turn to face Sam again, my grip tightening even further on the bolt cutters, causing him to panic.
“You’ve lied to me again. You’re also wasting my time, time that I don’t have spare to fucking use on you. You’re also very fucking stupid to think that you won’t die here tonight. I’ll end your pathetic little life right now, or I could keep you alive for hours on end until you’re nothing but a fucking torso for me to torture. Either way, your life is in my hands and I’m more than ready to claim it.”
I don’t even give Sam the chance to open his mouth as I clamp my hand down on the bolt cutters, eliciting a blood curdling scream to leave Sam’s mouth as the metal bites through his fleshy dick. The soft appendage lands with a flop on the floor and I have to step back to stop the river of blood from landing on my boots.
Echoing cries and moans bounce around the empty warehouse from Sam’s gaping mouth as he stares down to look at hissevered dick next to two of his toes. Immediately he begins to gag before expelling sour, yellow liquid all over the floor.
“Fuck! Man, that’s disgusting.” Eli remarks as he steps further back. “Viper, you know vomit makes me feel all weird.” He says, his voice full of disgust.
“I wonder if he’ll tell us now.” I say and spin on my heels to face Sam again whose face resembles that of a corpse in a morgue. Clumps of vomit line the front of his shirt, stringy saliva slips from between his lips like melted cheese.
“You ready to tell me the truth now?”
Sam nods heavily as he struggles to keep his eyes open. I drop the bolt cutters to the floor before giving him a swift smack to the side of his face to wake him up again. He jerks in the chains, causing more blood to slip between the metal of the handcuffs which are now beginning to rip the skin from his bones. His hands almost resemble gloves now as the weight of his limp body pulls against the handcuffs. I can almost hear the small bones breaking and snapping, the skin splitting open as it detaches from his wrists.
“Ricky.. has two warehouses that I know of. Both are about an hour from here. Ones near a shipping dock, and the other is about four miles west from there. You can’t.. can’t miss it. He mentioned somewhere else too.” Sam says, his breathing heavy and ragged.
“What did he say?” Eli pipes up.
“I uh.. I don’t remember much. Something about collecting girls and women, I dunno. Trafficking them I think.”
My blood runs cold at Sam’s words, creating images in my mind of Ana being shipped off, miles away from me.
Shooting my hand out, I grip Sam’s vomit stained shirt in my fist and drag him to me. “You wouldn’t lie to me again, wouldyou Sam?” He shakes his head, his bottom lip now trembling.
“No, no. I swear. He’s got my sister, Emily. She went missing a couple of weeks ago and.. I just know he’s got her.” He says in defeat and my stomach coils with indecision, but I can’t let the feeling of guilt slip into my mind. This fucker has been working with Ricky and I need to remember that, no matter how much his story is stabbing me in the chest. Ana will always come first.
“Do you know where he’s keeping them?” I ask as my eyes flick up to his slow, detaching hands. I’m running out of time.
“No. He never.. mentions anything about it in front of us. I just overheard him and Nico talking about collecting women. That’s all I know. I swear on my life.”
My gaze immediately snaps to Eli the moment Sam mentions the name Nico, the same name that we found on Ana’s text message and some kind of understanding passes between us, confirming that we’re on the right track.
Sam begins to cry out in pain as his hands start to slip through the handcuffs, the skin bunching like fabric before red flesh and bones peel from beneath the skin like a horrifying gift. He lands with a heavy thud on the floor with his severed toes and dick, his hands now flesh and bones. He groans and scrunches his eyes tightly to avoid looking at his mangled hands.
“If.. if you’re gonna kill me. Do it now, please. I’m begging you. But first, if you find my sister. Tell her that I’m sorry.” He pleads, keeping his eyes closed tightly, his fleshy hands trembling in front of him.
My jaw begins to ache from the pressure in which I’ve been grinding my teeth, and in a swift decision I slip the blade from its holster in my cargos and slash it across Sam’s throat, the hot blood sprays across my masked face like a burst pipe and he gurgles on his own blood as it pools out of his mouth likea volcano. After a couple of seconds, the warehouse falls silent again, Sam’s body lays limp on the floor. I stare at his lifeless form before taking the knife to his shirt and shredding the material straight down the middle to reveal his bare chest.
“What are you doing?” Eli asks.
“Sending a message.” I snap whilst dragging the tip of the blade through Sam’s skin, the words coming to life through the puddles of blood that seep through the open wounds. Once I’m done I take a step back and come to stand next to Eli where both of us look down at Sam’s dead body, the words staring right back at us.
I’m coming for you.
More and more girls flood into the abandoned prison every week, all walks of life are being crammed into the small cages, some of them sharing, their knees and arms bumping into each other every time they move.
I think I’ve been here for two months. I’m not entirely sure but I’ve been using a small rock to track the days on the floor of my cage. The lines are building everyday and every time I mark a day off, my mind and body die a little more. The wounds on my back are healing as best they can without any treatment, but they still cause me pain on a daily basis.
Emily hasn’t been herself since she came back, back from where I don’t know, but a guard came barging his way into her cage and dragged her away. I tried to keep a hold of her, to stop them from taking her but it was useless the moment the guard cracked his baton against my frail wrist. The small bones broke immediately on impact and I’ve tried my best to strap it together with strips of fabric from my robe, but every day it throbs.
