Thanks for all of the wonderful feedback! I'm already at work on the next part; I hope you all enjoy this one! As usual, the characters in the story don't belong to me, although I wish they did.
Part 10
Nick wasn't sure what to expect. If Crane wanted Greg, then…
"Turn around," Crane said impatiently.
Nick and Greg locked eyes. Greg never looked at Crane, not until he realized he had done something to Nick. Greg saw Nick's roll up, then Nick fell forward, almost falling on top of Greg. The younger man shifted quickly in order to avoid Nick falling on him. He then watched as the madman dragged Nick's unconscious body fully onto the bed, and then tied his hands behind his back. Greg swallowed hard when Crane turned to him.
"Now we're going to have some fun," he announced.
Crane tossed the gun onto the other bed, taking a pocket knife from his pocket. He moved from Nick's side to where Greg sat, bending down in front him. He opened the knife, revealing a big, sharp blade. Crane lightly ran the tip along Greg's jaw, nicking him once. When he was nicked, Greg, by instinct, jerked back. With his free hand, Crane grabbed Greg by the back of the head and moved him up a little.
"Don't you dare, Gregory. The more you cooperate with me, the less pain you endure," Crane said softly, although his voice made Greg shiver.
Crane continued running the knife softly along Greg's face, along both sides of his face, over his nose, then over Greg's closed eyes. Even when the knife was away from his eyes, Greg didn't open them. He opened them immediately when he felt a hand on his. And he immediately saw Crane's maniacal smile.
"Come on, Greg. This will soon be over," Crane said, holding on to Greg's hand.
Crane led the way, leading Greg into the bathroom area. Before rounding the corner, Greg looked back to Nick.
He's moving! Nick!!!!!!!!!! Greg thought, pleading to his friend silently. But he knew that when Nick woke, he'd first have to break free of his restraints before he could help Greg.
In the bathroom, Crane shoved Greg into the counter, in front of the mirror. In the reflection, Greg could see a little blood where he had been nicked. And then he saw Crane behind him, he could feel Crane's body pressed up against his back. He saw the knife curling around his throat, stopping on the other side.
"It's going to be ok, Gregory. It's going to be over soon," Crane said, his voice unemotional and monotonous.
Greg watched as the knife
moved slowly up his throat, over his jaw, finally stopping at his cheek. He felt the blade slowly pressing into his
flesh, slowly cutting into his face. A
tear fell down his face as the knife made a gash in the side of his face. The knife didn't go far, blood oozing onto
the metal, spilling over it. Then the
knife moved, he couldn't see it anymore.
He felt for a washcloth, his eyes not moving from his own
reflection. He wanted to see the knife
coming, he was sure it would come again.
He pressed the white cloth against the gash. Then he felt something on his back. He realized that Crane was cutting his
shirt. He cooperated, letting Crane take
his shirt off.
"Are you sure you want to watch this?" Crane asked.
"What are you going to do?" Greg counter-asked.
"You'll see soon enough," Crane answered.
The knife reappeared, again snaking around his throat. Then it moved down to his collarbone. Greg paled when the knife pointed straight into his chest, the point over his heart. The point slowly pressed into his chest, and then suddenly stopped before it broke the skin. The knife then moved downwards, stopping just above his navel. The knife was once again sideways, pressing into his abdomen.
"Just do it! Get it over with!" Greg pleaded.
"No," Crane whispered.
The knife pressed into his abdomen, the same way it pressed into his face. But the knife went faster, a little deeper. When the knife was gone, Greg moved the washcloth from his face to his stomach. The knife came back, snaking around his throat once again. This time, there was no silver to be seen, it was covered in dark red. Greg knew it was his own blood that covered the blade. It was again against his throat. It didn't move down, just in. It slowly moved into his throat.
"I have a feeling this will be Nick's last crime scene," Crane said.
Greg almost couldn't watch as the knife pressed deeper and deeper into his throat.