READER
It seems like shadows are passing over the room and it flickers in and out of existence, black and white. But these shadows are too complete, washing away my entire vision, and are accompanied by a pounding inside my head.
The lights aren't changing. I'm gaining consciousness.
I feel fire. As if my left shoulder is being branded by a hot iron. Lottie is there, in the corner of my vision, her hands are moving over my shoulder and she is holding some kind of metal contraption.
Is she burning me?
She moves clinically, digging inside my flesh now, the metal thing scraping at muscle. It's like she's destroying me from the inside out. My breaths are laboured and, unlike before, I can't manage to scream.
I can't lift my head from the pain, but I try to move my hands, my feet. I can't. My wrists, ankles and waist are bound to the table by leather straps. Were I in better condition I could perhaps lift my shoulders and neck but that's not an option right now. Still, to be so immobilised is horrific. I feel like a butterfly pinned to a display board, only I have no translucent wings to carry me to freedom if I escape.
I shiver and goosebumps rise in waves over my exposed back and arms. I notice a pile of black and green and realise it must be my clothes, meanwhile I'm left in my jeans and a plain black cotton bra.
The room I'm in feels different from Lottie's house - the house felt like it was designed to be lived in, this room feels cold and sterile. White walls and tiles form its backdrop and metal its accents. Shelves on one wall, a small table and the surface I lie on are all steel. A mirror hangs to the wall on my left where I see Lottie's back, hunched and labouring over me.
The thin trails of red on my back are probably the brightest thing this room has seen, I ponder morbidly.
EJ
Jack had circled the blonde's house three times now, and with the glimpses of rooms he had gotten from open curtains he had a rough idea of the layout of the ground floor. He saw the woman drag his deliciously scented prey into a windowless room at the back of the house and therefore decided to enter as far from there as possible. This made the tree reaching to the first floor window highly convenient.
Jack climbed the tree effortlessly and crawled the length of its branches. As he reached the window he noticed it was open a crack.
Shit it was like blondie wanted to be killed.
As Jack pulled on the hinges he noticed the window only opened enough to fit an arm through.
No rest for the wicked.
Jack gripped the window and pulled, tearing it clean of its hinges before throwing it behind him into the woods, then he leapt though. He snapped his head up to be met with... cream? Walls, floors and curtains. And bed covers. Jack walked slowly to the bed before pushing back his mask to inhale properly.
Oh fuck it was her.
The (H/C) morsel he had come for, with her exquisite scent. Jack licked his lips and fell to his knees before picking up a slip of fabric he assumed was her nightdress, gripping it tightly he brought it to his nose. That sweet, delectable scent. It made him want to rip something apart. To feel warm blood on his lips and taste the smooth succulent organs hidden under her skin, he wanted to devour her.
Reluctantly Jack tore himself away from the sweetly-scented room and followed a flight of stairs downwards. Ready to plan his next move.
READER
The burning flares briefly, as if some unknown entity had raised the temperature at which it scalded me. I let out a whimper at the same time as Lottie makes a satisfied grunt and yanks the metal out of my shoulder. I see what she is holding, reflected in the mirror. It looks like a pair on long metal tongs, gripping a small unknown object.
The bullet.
My stomach heaves as I realise that was buried inside me, like a seed dug in the earth, watered by my blood. Lottie sets it down onto a tray and crouches at my side. She takes my face in her bloody grasp.
"Listen to me you little slut, you are nothing. All that defines you has been taken. You no longer matter. You are worth what we say you are worth. You are worth what humans will pay for you. You will not know freedom since freedom is for humans. And if you do not understand, we will teach you. We care little for the cost of that." Lottie spits out at me. She releases me and reaches into her pockets for her mobile.
"It is easier to unmake you indirectly, with kind words and chemicals. But where kind words fail, pain succeeds. In a way little one, we care the most. Now you are far from home with no friends and allies. We would make sure you were fed and sheltered, at least while you were in our custody. It doesn't matter now."
While she speaks Lottie types into her mobile, as she finishes she raises it to her ear.
"The item is fine, I doubt she'll even scar. In fact if she doesn't then we don't even need to mention it to the customers... ...No they won't care about that, freaks they are... ...how should I know that?" Lottie moves to a stainless steel sink and runs bloody fingers under the tap. The sound of rushing water is harsh and masks some of her words.
"...the masked man, a local myth... ...real problems, like the police... ...I told you they were freaks, still they're superstitious... ...don't mention that OK" Lottie gives me one last look, this time of appraisal and leaves the room, she doesn't shut the door.
EJ
It wasn't long before the woman appeared, smelling vaguely of the girl's blood; this pissed off Jack, who held his scalpel in a death-grip at his side. She disappeared into a room that resembled an office and Jack began to stalk towards her door.
Jack smirked under his mask and twirled the cool metal between his fingers. This woman had been marked for death, now it was time to carry out her sentence.
He stepped in the room without warning and grabbed the woman by the hair, pulling her sharply backwards. She let out a shriek and her hands flew to Jack's wrist, now entangled in blonde locks. This was her first mistake.
Jack took advantage of her distraction to grab her gun, so carelessly placed on a pile of papers, and throw it down the hall. That gun damaged his prey. Shot hot metal into her flesh and caused her pain and only he should be causing her pain. He pulled the woman up against his chest and rested his blade against her neck. She quietened instantly.
"You hurt her, you bitch, when you didn't have the right" Jack growled into the woman's ear. In return she let out a useless string of pleading. She begged for mercy and promised him anything but Jack was not moved. He only wanted to do one thing to her.
He smiled as he thrust the blade into her neck. She screamed again and he stabbed again. Several times. When her mouth was still moving but she had gone quiet he realised he had destroyed her voice box. How convenient. Jack tossed her body onto the floor and went to retrieve his rucksack from another room.
Then he lined up the Tupperware boxes next to her body.
Jack made careful incisions into her abdomen, removing her kidneys and liver. They didn't come out easily and he had to dig around her entrails to separate the parts; he would have just ripped them out but there was the risk of damaging the meat. As he progressed he sealed the different parts into the containers. Soon he reached her lungs and as he prepared to reach into her ribcage he looked her in the eyes.
They were rolled back into her head and spilling tears that she blinked away.
She was still alive? Fascinating.
Jack peeled the lungs apart and put them away, only to look at the blondes face again. He was pretty sure she was dead now. That left only the heart. However since the rest of her chest cavity was so hollow Jack merely had to reach in and pluck the organ out like a grape off the vine.
Cutting this woman up had left him hungry and he had harvested a lot, he justified to himself. Then he bit into the succulent heart in his hand; blood directly from the heart tasted thicker and richer and the muscle was lean, it made a delicious meal. Jack finished his snack quickly and began packing his organs away. But even as he did he couldn't help but think about the girl and what her heart would taste like.
Now the older bitch was out of the way, Jack could really enjoy himself.
READER
Tears leak from your eyes as you stare into the harsh white wall. You hear a figure approach the door and try to stifle your sobs by biting your lip. She was back.
You squeeze your eyes shut and hear footsteps approach you. They pause on the right side of you, away from where you're facing. Their shadow lies on your skin, it feels massive, bigger than anything Lottie could cast. Briefly you hear the sound of fabric being pulled away and you nearly scream when a cool fingernail makes a path over your shoulder blade, instead you just let out a gasp.
Soon the finger is gone, replaced by others. Large hands glide over your abdomen and trail your spine upwards. They tentatively touch your hair before going again. You feel a body close to you, looming over you, it's right by your face now.
You taste blood and release your lip, realising what you had done to it.
Your silence is broken entirely as you feel a tongue glide over your wounded lip. You wrench open your eyes and shriek till your throat is hoarse. In the mirror you see the figure hovering over you. His hands are pressed on either side of your head and he stares down intently. A blue mask sits haphazardly on his face, pushed up to expose his mouth.
He grins and you see his teeth, sharp and jagged like a sharks with the bloodstains to match.
Your screaming overflows from your mouth and fills your entire body; you convulse under your bonds as the man reaches for your throat.