The office was much brighter now as Lena got used to the darkness and her eyes had to readjust. As she held the book to her chest she suddenly had a vision, brutal and appearing real. She was in the room again, a nameless victim under her control, his half naked body hanging from the ceiling as she held a pair of open scissors against his tongue as he whimpered. The scissors felt cold in her hand, she hadn't been holding them long it seemed like. The man in front of her was nothing special, a man who was given everything he wanted like her, but she made something of herself, she had gifts that she used to her advantage while he had just wasted his money until it was gone. But her father never had a victim who did not have money. She couldn't figure out his story and she did not care. This moment right now, his life and pain being so carefully in her hands that it delighted her in ways she never dreamed. His whimpers excited her more also. The shivers going down his spine and the way he tried to stay still unless the blades cut into the muscle. His tongue was dry, quivering in fact. The room was empty besides them too, her father no where to be seen. She could smell that he had wet himself, the urine odor hitting her nose quickly and at full force but she ignored that unpleasant feeling in her gut to continue on with her task.
This was what it felt like to scare someone, to overpower them. To make them hers. The adrenaline was rising in her so quickly it almost shocked her but by keeping her composure, nothing seemed amiss. She did not speak to him, he didn't seem worthy of conversation and what could he say without her fingers twitching and turning him into a mute? It seemed more threatening to just be silent, almost in a mysterious way but that was not her goal either. Would she kill him? Possibly. Could she kill him? Of course, she was capable of anything. His eyes met hers and she squeezed the handle a fraction of a centimeter closer together, making him wince and tears come to his eyes. Now she had something to say. "Do not look at me. Do not try to put your tongue back in your mouth. If you do, the pain will just be worse I can assure you of that." The voice she heard was dark, cold and malevolent. She was not aware until now of how dangerous she could come across as. It was something new for her to discover and that delighted her. More then that actually, it made her almost smile. Her fingers did not shake, they stayed still again, the single light bulb behind her illuminated part of his sweaty face, her shadow covering the action guided by her hand.
What would she do to accomplish this? She new very well that this was a fantasy, her mind told her that. Yet she was not ready to leave. this man could have double crossed her father, making him her problem as well and she was entrusted to make sure he would not bother them again. A few minutes later she realized that she had gone still, her mind and thoughts racing as she tried to truly feel the emotion in the room. She could already smell some of it. Even his naked chest was sweating with fear. She longed to know if he would have looked at her as the other customer had, with lust and a urge to take her for himself. Once again, in a race of anger, the handles closed again so the blades pressed harder into his tongue, making him scream in pain. She felt the top layer break, the small sound of the scissors closing more echoing in her ears with a delightful tone. Moving to the side a slight bit, she could see the blood forming along the blades, a rich and powerful color that made her heart beat faster. Lena stared at it with fascination. Did her father feel the same wave of joy that she did when he saw the blood, inflicted by himself? The rush that went through her made her close them even more yet, not an inch had gone by yet. No, she wanted to see even flash of pain that went through his eyes, to see every new drop of sweat move on his flesh.
Even better, to see him plea with her silently to not do what she was doing to him. His eyes going wide and his body shaking again, trying yet again to stay still as she had his tongue captive in her scissors. When she got bored after a few seconds of watching him, she would just inflict more pain, making another scream echo in her ears. How pathetic he sounded. Like a person who had never screamed before. A person who did not know what it was like to be scared or to feel his very existence being controlled by someone like herself. His scream was weak, it displeased her and almost made her doubt her skills of causing pain and suffering. Another centimeter closer until the blades were joined together again, bloody and holding a new memory for her to cherish until the end of her days. "You are boring me, do you know that?" her voice said softly and delicately. "You are nothing like how I would like to see. I want to see more fear and more pain on you. I am sure you would wish to know why. For which I will answer truthfully for you. And if you listen well, I may not cut deeper then I have."
"You see, ever since I was little, I have loved the things that did not make sense to me. That did not appeal to others. And as I grew up, things changed. I learned more and discovered myself better." She paused, watching him again closely. He had his eyes trained on her, wide and unblinking. "I learned that I was not like most people that I read about. They wanted a happy life of which did not appeal to me. I read of how people fell in love, got married and had a family and that was it. Where was the exciting stories? the things that gave them true pleasure? The taboo world that was never talked about because it was not normal?" She smirked at her own words, having not spoken them out loud before but they had been in her head for years, finally she was allowed to get them out in the open. Oh how she loved it, to sound poetic and dark. Like the world was truly her own to do as she pleased, she now felt her father's power rising in her, along with his knowledge and unforgiving to let anyone stand in their way.
"There was not much else that I wanted. Just this; to make people accept how precious their lives are and how sad they waste it by not allowing family to be their best asset. Money does not buy happiness, it is an illusion. However, my father and I use the money we collect to get knowledge, improve our minds until no mistakes can be made and we can truly understand what life is meant to be like. I would like to thank you. for granting me this chance to prove to myself that I am indeed capable to do as my father does, perhaps even better. He is brutal yes, but power lies in his eyes and body language. By being as I am, a woman, I can manipulate my targets further. Act as an innocent child who is just doing good by following the rules of others. But I make the rules, I do as I want. I give as much pain as I want and I kill you if I want. You will never be told of my intentions until it is too late."
The man was in tears now, his eyes and nose running wildly. It disgusted her and with that result she closed the scissors completely, severing his tongue from his mouth and it fell at his feet, the blood spilling and his cries and screams the loudest they had ever been in probably his life. She did not smile, did not feel anything, she simply watched the scene she had created, savouring the horror like it was a meditation. His chest was covered in blood now, it mixed with the urine on the front of his pants, his body smelled terrible she had to take a step back before gagging. Her eyes looked down to the shriveled tongue, the thing a sickly pink color and she kicked it away so it hit the wall with a smack. Lena turned her attention back to the hyperventilating man. "Did you think that I wouldn't do it?" She said quietly, waving the scissors in front of him lazily from the ends of her fingers. The blades pointed to the pile of blood on the floor, staining the very tips of her shoes. Watching the blood move closer to her until her toes were stepping completely in it made her feel nothing. No more excitement, no more anything. She was bored now, the damage was done and her point was made. Now there was only one thing to do; a final instruction. Lena opened the scissors again so one side was exposed, already staining. Another step closer and the now warm blade was against the throat, no words exchanged, only a final slash the spilled the last of the blood and she walked away, dropping the scissors in the silver bowl on a table and leaving his dying body to be her father's concern.
Reality set back in, at least the present time anyhow. Somehow Lena had went to her room and locked the door, standing now motionless in her room while she stroked the pages of the book. The unread words seemed to be calling to her, giving her a vision of what would and could happen. The curtains were still drawn shut, the lights off so the room was dim and calming. Lena had an urge to drink tea and curl up in a corner with the book, read the entire contents until her eyes were burning for sleep. No, she would have to read the book a few pages at a time to absorb the information correctly. She was to remember every detail so nothing was missed and nothing could be left behind. The book would not leave her side so she took it with her back downstairs to find her father back in the office with his doors shut. She would not disturb him anymore today. Nor he would do to her. They could eat on their own and keep to themselves with their minds processed their own thoughts and the next day could go more relaxed. Both of them could handle even a few days apart but when they were rejoined nothing else mattered, they would talk like no time had passed. Their conversations would be just intelligent ones, no getting to know each other's feelings, those passed and they shared the same ones anyhow.
Lena made the tea silently and took her cup to the parlor, wanting the open space so her thoughts could flow freely without her feeling constricted within her own mind. Even she had to have a break from all of the things that she imagined. Her dreams and nightmares were like her everyday thoughts. Nothing could scare her anymore and she found her desired chair and set her cup aside on the table, opening the book on her lap to turn to the first page. She didn't mind rereading some of the ideas, it helped her remember things. She spent the next few hours reading the first section, learning about the tools her preferred to have with him at all times and how he expected the room to be left after every kill. Those facts and details were carefully stored away in her mind for the time she was allowed to accompany him on her official first kill.