.

4

Ace of Knaves

"I think there's a lot of room in there. See, it's very simple really. You want me. No, you need me."

I couldn't breathe, let alone answer with all his weight suffocating one. He leaned in to say more, probably wanting a response. But a knock left him astray.

"What!"

The door opened. "Sorry Boss but you asked for this?"

An "oh" formed in his mouth and crawled away. Still on top until the last moment before landing firmly on the ground. I could breathe again. What am I going to do? One door, one table, no windows, I was trapped. "Sit up now Renee," a slight hinting.

Oh god, what do I do? What do I do! Look over the ceiling, close your eyes, cling to the edge, do something to stay down longer. "Sit up!" he roared. I was, visibly shaking.

He pushed a camera much too close. The red on-light blinking with abnormal speed to show its recording. "Look what I got!" He shout. "Jealous much? Don't you want be me right now? Say hello Renee, let's not be rude. Tell them how much you gagged at such a disgusting display of acting skills. They'll do just about anything to get some air time huh? Using your situation as an obvious excuse to get some attention. How sad! Come now, I know that's what you were thinking."

Where is he taking this? He's going to punish me for their pleas. Will they see this? Will all of Gotham see this?

"Please-"

He thrust the camera over his shoulder so his face could be seen next to mine. "Oh don't mind her. She's just one brave little cookie, aren't you?" and twist the camera back around to zoom in on my arms as if he wanted to imply strong muscles. There were none, only thick shaking tree branches. "But you already knew that didn't you Mr. Wayne," turned to only him. "I sincerely hope all three of you are watching this together because this video here," covered the lens with his finger. "It's meant to be seen by her family," he snorts. "And you, Miss Dawes, nicely done on the preparation. You went a little heavy on the eyeliner. Theatrical black tears. Take it from someone who knows, you did a horrible job. Let's see if the critique agrees?"

Camera on me. Don't encourage this, even if it's the last time you can talk to them. He stared but then turned on his heel and walked across the bright room. Stopping in front of a metal cabinet. He placed the camera on top of it, just at the perfect height.

Making sure it's zoomed into the spot he wanted, he turned back around and swaggered closer. Stopping right before the table, his back blocking the camera's view. "I've been very patient with you. More than I have ever been with anyone," breathe. Breathe deep, breathe slow. "And all of this patience is driving me insane!" I jumped, retreating further across the table. He noticed and stopped it. Grabbing my legs and sliding me back to him. Positioning each leg so it looked like I was straddling him.

His hand, still gloveless, reaches inside his pant pocket, bringing out one of his favorite knives. The Cupid 3.0 OTF automatic switchblade. Ironic name, Cupid, the meaning he holds it for is entirely contradictory.

Bruising each leg. He smiled, lowering his head to make his eyes viciously daring. Lifting the blade up to my lips, pressing it on the side. A small scream was brought out. He sparkled, satisfaction, shivering dramatically and smiling even wider.

"Ah, yes. I knew your scream would make me feel like this. Now," the knife mirrored the red paint with a pale smile adjacent his. "The punchline has been long overdue don't you think? After all, the battery is running low on the camera." Speaking of the camera, he moved away from its view. His focus fixated on my black sweater.

Rubbing his chin as if he were in deep thought then shakes his head. "This certainly won't do." I nearly toppled over the edge as he tore at it with his bare hands. The buttons ripped everywhere, rolling across the tiles in splice. He flung it over his shoulder and sadly stared down. I followed and saw the black tank top. Oh thank god. But he stopped that relief, placing the blade under one of the spaghetti straps.

"Please don't," I begged.

He lift the knife.

Something's not right.

And instead forcefully pushed down to the tabletop. Laying flat, helplessly waiting for what he's about to do. He jumped onto the surface and waved the knife at the camera. "I would like you all to know you forced this upon her. Not me."

No, not this, I've never, oh god! Do something!

He grabbed my right shoulder, rubbed the skin hard. Then before I could fight, he pressed the knife deep. Ripping in a straight line. All there is to say such screaming has never been heard so loudly by those in the same building, only rooms away. I couldn't stop, I've never experienced this kind of pain. The only cuts I've ever had were paper cuts. Skin parted ways, blood streaming onto the cold table, slowly seeping over to his newly cleaned pants.

He moved in a different direction, now slicing the skin straight down. "Stop! Oh god please stop!" I was crying so hard, so painstakingly heavy. "IT HURTS! PLEASE! The camera!" He was peeling flesh from bone.

"That's the point sweetheart!" he screamed in the same pitch. The blade took a break, rubies still dripping along its edge and onto my shirt. He pitied his tongue."Tsk, tsk, tsk. Even if you're being cut open you still care about your precious audience. Some would admire your loyalty. We're just going to have to bleed that right out of you. Such a useless quality, lollipop."

I tried to reach for his hand but he narrowed his gaze in annoyance as if I were a puppy sharply nibbling on his finger. Our hands brushed, he jerked away, pushing mine into my stomach.

"Almost done."

Putting more pressure than necessary, he made the final touches. Another scream mixed with sobbing tremors practically shred my throat into burning paper. Both my legs and left arm shook ravenously with seizure tendencies. He finished, taking a moment to stare. "I don't see what all the fuss is about. Now your arm matches your hair. I always did love the color red." He slid from the table, wiping the steel on his sleeve. Making his way over to the camera. With one last smile. "She's mine now," he edged closer. "I'll make sure you get to see my masterpiece soon, don't you worry. It has an artistic future I think." The camera powered down.