Come With Me

Chapter 1, Part 6

     When I woke up, my hands were duck taped to her bed posts, as were my feet.  I lifted my sore neck to find my chest still bloody.  It gleamed in the middle and was crusty around the edges of my skin.  She had removed my shirt.

     I looked to where Tiffany stood next to me, sharpening her knife.  I think it was all for looks, because, trust me, it was damn sharp enough.

     She smiled slightly when she noticed me looking at her.  “Are you ready to get the key, Matt?”  It took me a second to realize that she meant the key inside of me, and that’s when I felt like crying.  All of my man-pride was gone.

     “Don’t worry, Matt; I’ll even sterilize it.”  She grabbed a little lighter from her nightstand and ran the flame along the length of the steel.  I pressed my skull into the feather pillow, gut tightening.

     She slowly climbed on top of me, toying with the knife.  I didn’t even want to look as I felt the cold edges kissing my skin.  I blocked out my own screams as it dug into my side.  Nerves that should never feel direct touch were violated.  A draft made them even more uncomfortable.  Her manicured fingernails scratched the soft tissues in my gut, and I felt my stomach acid wash over everything with a slow burn.  

     My brain blocked the pain, thank God, but it actually did little to help me.  It was killing me even more knowing that my life source was seeping into the comforter and being added to Tiffany’s “beautiful” collage.  My fingers and toes were numb. 

     Through wavering vision, I saw Tiffany hold up the key between two fingers.  She jumped off of me, which jarred me even farther apart, and unlocked the door.

     Irony was a bitch.

     There was a hum when she talked.  “You know, Matt? I figured out what I want.”  She dropped her shorts.  “I want something just in between…”

     The last thing I felt was anything but pleasure as my life slipped away like sand through spread fingers.