Lost in the Depth

Not Enough

While the guests are upstairs enjoying the food and drinks brought by the staff, I'm down here having my ears torn apart by Sara's screeching.

And I couldn't be happier.

I left Riley dead in the other cell and then I came here to beat the shit out of Sara. I killed and enjoyed torturing Riley, purely because of the little inconvenience she caused with the brick.

I run the knife along Sara's abdomen, pushing hard enough for it to go so deep that the blood gushes and splashes out. I'm surprised she hasn't bled to death already but I'm glad for it. Although I don't particularly enjoy having her filthy blood splattered on me, I am savoring this with as much glee as I can.

"Stop! Please just-"

"Did you really think I would let this go?" I whisper into her ear as she pants.

Tied up in the chair, she tosses her head back and lets out a painful scream mixed with sobs as I dig the knife deeper into her stomach.

"You just left her there to die!" I keep talking even though I know that through all of the pain, she must barely be registering what I'm saying right now.

"If you had at least called the cops, she might still be here," I mutter, more to myself than to Sara.

"I didn't mean to," she pleads in between a storm of sobs and hiccups.

"Really? Didn't sound like it when you were talking about it with Riley."

"P-please."

"Please what? Please stop? Do you really think I'm going to?"

"Please just kill me," she says in the slightest whisper, so quietly that I almost don't hear her. Her head is hung low now. Her blood is everywhere. On the walls, on the ground, on me. And all over her. There isn't an inch of dry skin left on her. She's covered with sweat, tears and blood.

"What was that?" I ask cruelly, wanting to hear her say it again. I already heard Riley say it and now I cherish Sara's weak voice as she says it again.

"Kill me."

I told you I would have them begging for death by the time I'm done.

"Gladly."

I step back, taking in the beauty of the art that I've made with only the deep red colour of Sara's blood.

I lift up the gun in front of me.

I aim at her head. But I aim slightly off, so that when I shoot, her brains will be blown out, yes. Her face will barely have any skin left on it. But she'll still be alive. She'll still be alive to experience the pain and agony of having her head blown to bits. Not to worry though, eventually she'll die of blood loss, amongst other things.

"Thank you," she says.

I grin. "Don't thank me just yet, dear."

I pull the trigger.

And it goes exactly as I planned. I take another step back, admiring the sight, watching her try to gasp and squirm. Bits of her brain are scattered on the walls and the ground.

I silently thank my dad for teaching me the technique.

Yet, as I stand there, watching Sara as she takes her last breaths, I don't feel exactly how I thought I'd feel when this moment came. I thought I'd be satisfied, my grief partly gone at least. I thought I'd be fulfilled.

But I'm not.

Because it's just not enough.

---

Will

"Have you seen Rayna?" I ask a group of guests who are in a corner of the hall, having a mothers meeting.

They glare at me, annoyed that I interrupted their gossiping.

"I don't know, I saw her go downstairs," a woman who appears to be in her mid 30s answers my question. She has black hair and hazel eyes and seems to have a permanent scowl glued on her face.

The others keep glaring at me, becoming more annoyed by my presence. "What do you mean downstairs? This is a church, there's no lower level."

The woman's eyes widen as if she realised she said something she shouldn't have. The other people in the group now turn to glare at her instead of me.

"Oh yeah, my bad," she tries to smile, but I can see the panic in her eyes.

Wow, these people really need to keep better track of who's in their private little clique and who's not.

I decide to see what the woman meant and I make my way to the back of the hall. I see a small door covered up by a curtain, but not well enough.

As I open it, I see a set of stairs leading down and I'm met with the last face I want to see right now.

Antonio's grey eyes pierce into me as he stalks past me. I don't waste a second thought on him as I go down the stairs. I reach the lower level that I never knew existed until now.

It's almost pitch black down here, so I use my phone's flash to see my surroundings.

It's looks like some sort of dungeon from medieval times or something. Though, judging by the table laid out with modern weapons, it's not too old. Menacing looking blades and guns lay there, along with weapons I never knew existed, that probably shouldn't either.

Then there's a hallway of metal doors, going down to who knows where. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what this place is.

There's two door that are slightly ajar a few feet down. My curiosity gets the best of me and I walk over to the closer one.

I make the mistake of pushing the door open.

I can't even find the words to describe what I see.

The room is clearly made of a dull black metal, but there isn't a single spot where that colour exists.

It's all red. Painted with blood, internal organs and bits of brain. The person in the chair is bloodied and fucked up beyond the point of recognition.

I've seen some pretty mad shit in my life. I've met some batshit crazy hoes as well. But nothing, no one I know, is capable of this.

Losing the ability to keep my dinner down any longer, I turn and vomit my guts out.

I just don't understand why Rayna of all people would be down here.

Maybe I was wrong, maybe I misheard the woman or something. I try to convince myself that Rayna isn't the cause of this.

All I know is that Reece really underestimated these people.