WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS VIOLENCE
I watch the weapons for a while now, placed on the table like soldiers, waiting for their turn to go to the battlefield and show their talent. But it’s always so hard to choose who goes first. The other ideas come to me as soon as I start the fun, but it’s always the hardest to choose the first one. Which makes the first impression.
I’ve done this so many times, but it always feels like the first.
“We need something to cheer you up, right, Leonardo?”
With one flick I turn the music system on to fill the room with loud orchestral music, Four Seasons by Vivaldi. I never listen to this kind of music when I’m alone with myself, but at this moment, it’s the biggest pleasure to listen to something like this. The cuts should match the rhythm. To make it as memorable as possible.
The first thing I grab is a syringe with Belladonna which Aaron left for me, along with other poisons and liquids for me to use. Something that will cause pain. Something that will burn his skin. Something that will kill him in an instant. But I don’t want him to die, not yet. It’s my least favorite part of the game; it’s the ending, which means someone wins and someone loses, and the game is over. And I don’t want it to be over. I want him to feel the pain that he caused to Beverly.
And even more.
I slowly turn around to Leonardo, still chained to the wooden chair in the middle of the room. And Beverly, standing in front of him, watching him carefully, arms crossed by her chest. She seems so calm, the serious face expression makes her look like she’s looking at a painting in the museum. But deep inside her, I know everything burns. Explodes. The anger and the pain, to a man that brought so much pain into her life.
But one thing that I haven’t realized is that he brought me. He was the one who introduced me to Beverly, if I could say so. If he didn’t appeared in her life, I probably would never met Beverly. The love of my life. Deep inside me, I can’t regret that those things happened. Because it brought me love.
But who knows. People that are meant for each other find their way to love, at last.
“You can’t do this to me, Beverly, you’re different. You’re not like him. Please.”
“Shut your fucking mouth.”
“I’m so sorry for everything that I did. But I know you can’t kill me. You’re a good person.”
“I said shut up.”
“Please, Beverly, let me go...”
Beverly’s palm slams into his face with a sound of a clap, louder than a music playing, when all the patience disappears from her body. His cheek paints in red, in a burning pain on his face as he turns away and realizes there’s no way out of here.
“I said shut the fuck up.”
“Come on, we need to be gentle with our guest.”
I walk down straight at him, my footsteps matching the rhythm as I feel his fear growing; the thing I like the most. When they’re afraid. When they beg for mercy. And when they get nothing but pain. stick the needle of the syringe in his neck, slowly pouring the liquid into his system, being as gentle as I can. Watching his eyes widen and his skin cover with little drops of cold sweat. Oh, how much I will enjoy this. None of the people that I’ve killed deserved it as much as Leonardo does. And I’m going to enjoy every drop of blood, every sound he’ll let out. And when I’m done, I will enjoy letting Beverly set herself free. Because that is what she needs. What we all need.
“Beverly, baby, would you like to start?”
“No. I want to look at his eyes.”
“You heard that, Leonardo? It’s not okay to disrespect a woman’s wish.”
I quickly walk to the table to grab a scalpel, and then back to him to show the little sharp tip of it. I hold it right between his eyes as his body starts to shiver, but he can’t move even one muscle, paralyzed from bottom to top.
“If you’ll try to close your eyes, I’ll cut your eyelids with this little thing. Capisce?”
I watch him, sitting straight as a stone, not able to move at all. I notice a scar on his cheek, almost invisible; but I remember every single thing I’ve done. I remember how I cut his flawless skin, and something that he appreciated the most.
“I almost can’t see the scar I left you. Let’s make it more visible, shall we?”
The scalpel slowly reaches the skin of his face, but he can’t move anywhere to avoid my cut. But I like when they fight back. I like when they try to save their lives. That means I’ll never use paralyzing poison ever again, because it gives no pleasure at all.
With just a little pressure, the tip of the scalpel disappears in his skin, in the same place where the scar is. I draw it down, watching the blood falling out of the wound, slowly, gently making it bigger, finally seeing blood that I was craving for.
“Now that’s better, right?”
I see his teeth clenching, but he doesn’t let out a single sound, no matter how much it hurts, trying to stay brave and confident until he lets out his last breath. I look at him, deep inside his eyes; and eyes are the mirror of the soul, but there’s nothing in it. There’s no such trait in him that I would appreciate; no loyalty, no courage, no devotion for something that he loves. This is just a man that does everything to survive, hurting people around him and caring about nothing but himself.
A male version of Camille. But even she was smarter.
“So, what we should do next?”
I walk down back to the table to choose the next weapon I’ll use on him, listening to music that gives me so much inspiration. I carefully take the knife in my hand, sharp and dangerous. It looks like it had been wanting to murder since it’s first design, a large steel serrated blade with a black handle, fitting perfectly in my hand. Murder’s hand.
With no hesitation I walk back to him, all shaking, watching me with such horror in his eyes that it sends a smile on my face. There’s nothing better than seeing your enemies lose.
One thing I know about men like Leonardo - they’re so in love with themselves, doing everything to look flawless. Good hairstyle, expensive clothes, flawless skin.
But would he be so attractive with no skin at all?
“Don’t close your eyes, Leonardo.”
I slowly place the tip of the knife on top of his forehead, getting a slow, but not a deep cut. I draw a knife all around his face, extending it through all the individual layers of skin, so as to reach the area between his skin and the muscle. The blood leaves the cut in violent jets of red, poured as easily as water from a garden hose in a steady but dying rhythm. I watch his body shivering, his eyes getting watery as he still tries not to let out a single sound.
Until I make a perfect bloody circle around his face, taking the last look at him before the fun begins.
The side of the blade slips under the skin of his forehead as I slowly pull it, feeling his skin leaving his face. And finally, after a couple of inches flaying his skin off, I hear him letting out a scream.
It’s a scream that has a raw quality, the realness of a person consumed by a pain that knew no end or limit; the loudest most piercing scream I had ever heard. A scream of wild panic. A scream of hysteria and disbelief, bordering on terror. And it doesn’t end until I’m finished getting the skin off his face.
The top of the skin is just hanging on his face as I put the knife away and start working with my hands. I grab the skin, flaying it off, little by little, ripping it off his face. The pleasure fills up my chest as I know his nerve endings are torn to shreds, one by one, in a long train of agony. His skin is pulled off his muscles, and the scream he lets out, lets me know that he feels his nerve endings dying.
I watch the blood rushing past his face that has only half of the skin left, and falling onto the ground, coming from all over his body. It’s only a pleasure to make him feel that kind of unbearable pain; although, I know he wouldn’t survive after this even if I left him to die himself.
His eyes are wide in horror as I finish flaying the skin off, his face is red in blood as only the muscles are left and a large unbroken sheet of his skin in my hand. I step back when he stops screaming and I can hear the music again, the symphony that makes the situation look so much better.
“Fuck, I’m going to get sick.”
“Let’s end this and save Avery, my love.”
I hand the knife to Beverly and she carefully takes it, like she was afraid to cut herself while only holding it. She looks at the blood on the blade, the weapon that will make her do another murder, and for a moment it seems like the time froze.
“You reap what you sow, Leonardo.”
She takes a few steps closer to him, stopping just by his feet and examining his bloody face. His eyes, that seem so tired that I know his life is slowly leaving his body. There’s no need to torture him more; he might die during the process, and we know exactly how we need him to die.
“Monsters like you don’t deserve to walk on this planet.”
With a quick move she waves the knife through his face, the tip of it cutting a deep line through his face muscles, causing even more pain and making him let out another scream. But Beverly doesn’t wait for him to suffer; she spins the knife around her fingers and stabs it straight into his chest, right in the middle, right where his heart is. And for the last time, Leonardo’s body straightens as he lets out his last breath, looking Beverly in the eyes.
“Die, you piece of shit.”
The life left his eyes as his body loosens and he doesn’t breathe anymore. Beverly straightens herself, her head lifted just a little up as she keeps looking at him with the coldest eyes I ever saw. I know this will change her even more, but I couldn’t stop her; in fact, I didn’t want to. Because she needed this all this time. And now, after he’s dead, I know the pain is gone.
“Baby, how are you feeling?”
I gently place a palm on her spine, feeling her body warming up my hand. But she doesn’t even turn to me, looking at Leonardo, watching his dead body and knowing that she’s the one who killed him.
“Free. I feel free."