When I peel back each layer of skin, when I see the tissue beneath the epidermis, when everything turns red before me, I don't have time to focus on the red in my mind. And that's good.
The first cut comes behind my ear, and I only flinch slightly. It's unavoidable because even though the ear is cartilage, the area beneath it is sensitive—the submandibular lymph nodes sit just below.
She won't cut there. At least, I hope not, because I've removed submandibular nodes before, and judging by the screams from the man I extracted them from, it hurts like hell.Pain means you're alive.
Next comes a stab, and I grit my teeth because it's a blade shaped like a knitting needle, only mercilessly sharp. This time, the pain comes from my right shoulder.
I feel the red liquid start to stream down my forearm, but I force myself to breathe through my nose.
It's just muscle. It'll heal.
"Don't tell me you've started developing sensitivity for the innocent, son. I taught you what it means to care."
She taught me. By showing me all the footage she has of Berna being raped by her "associates." She showed me when she drilled holes in Vasili until I was convinced there wouldn't be a drop of blood left in his body. She showed me when she put a bullet in my father's forehead so she could seize power before the Council.
Every single time, I wanted to fall to my knees and beg her to stop. I know anatomically it's not possible, but my heart bled each time, and the red wave spread like a virus through my entire body.
I hear a door open and close, and a soldier enters carrying a metal bucket.
"Did you get everything off him?" I hear her ask, and I feel the last drop of blood drain from my face.
Not this. Anything but this. I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing myself to breathe.You're alive, you'll be alive tomorrow, that's all that matters.
I watch her pull on gloves—wouldn't want her skin touching her victims' skin—and she takes a piece from the bucket.
If I had to guess, it's a portion of someone's thigh, though the patch of flesh and skin isn't entirely clear to me.
I feel her position herself behind me and press the piece of skin against my neck. A shudder of disgust runs through my body at the contact, but I clench my teeth harder.Don't show her anything.
My stomach churns and the need to vomit rises when she places another patch of someone's flesh and skin on my cheek.
The smell of blood and cold meat brings bile to my throat, but I force myself to swallow it down.
After five more of these trophies, I watch her remove her gloves, and finally I breathe.
"See you in a few hours, sweetheart."
The room is warm, and the pieces of meat she stuck to my body start to take on a gelatinous texture.
And when the piece on my cheek slides down and touches my lips, I know that no matter how hard I try to squeeze my eyes shut, I can't stop my body from convulsing as I vomit violently.
One day, I'm going to make her eat her own skin. I swear it.
Chapter 33
Damien
Something's burning like hell in my abdomen, but when I try to move, I'm enveloped by a sweet caramel scent.
When I manage to open my eyes, I see Roxanne's hair scattered across my body, and my hand instinctively tightens on her waist.
Yesterday's memories hit me hard. The wedding, dancing with her, the gunshot, and a low growl escapes through my teeth at the images flooding my mind.
Because they ruined her day. Because the bullet could have hit her. Because they stole my first evening with my wife.
Roxanne jolts awake beside me and sits up abruptly.
"Did I hurt you?" Her voice is still foggy with sleep but full of concern.
