𝐏𝐒𝐘𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇 (Ash Trilogy #2) ✔️

33

The metal tip of the spoon presses underneath my eye. He smirks as he holds it. 

"Knowing you died in the most painful way possible will definitely hurt your father...." he trails off in a satisfied tone.

He pushes the spoon down deeper into my skin. It pokes at my eye and I let out a long groan through clenched teeth. This only makes his smirk grow.

"Just do it, just fucking do it," I spit. The chains around my wrists make them scream with pain and I clench my hands as much as I can, given one has a trail of blood staining my arm. 

He pushes it further. My eye hurts so fucking back. My back arches and I'm groaning in pain through my teeth.

He holds it there. The noises of my pain echo off all four walls.

But then, he removes it. 

My head hangs out of relief. I breathe heavily. 

"No," he takes a pause in his sentence as if he were thinking. "No."

I bring my head up to look at him. 

"You'll need your eyes to watch Aurora die," he says at the same time he tosses the metal spoon onto the floor. It echos. "I have other ways to inflict pain onto you in the meantime." 

He basks in the moment for a second, taking in a deep breath. He was proud of himself, that was for sure. There was a glistening behind his eye looking at me chained up with no way out. He knew he was in control, in the power position. 

He pulls a knife out of his pocket and steps toward me. I tighten my core, preparing to get stabbed, but that's not what he does. 

With the tip of the blade, he cuts my chest. The pain burns. I clench my hands and grit my teeth, not trying to make any noises of pain even though it's clearly shown on my face. My body temperature rises and I feel the blood roll down my stomach and it drips onto the floor below me.

He moves the bloodied knife to my stomach and cuts again. This time, deeper and slower. He stares at me with a smirk and I let out a groan I had been holding in.

I lower my head so that he can't see my pain. The cut goes on for what feels like forever. It burns. I stare down at the ground and watch my blood land on the floor.

I don't let myself breathe until the cut is over. I know my skin is hot to the touch. I feel sweat begin to form on my forehead and my breathing becomes shallow. I hang my head weakly.

He uses the knife to force my chin up. He makes me look at him. I stare at him with clenched teeth and hate while he smiles down at me like a kid entertained by their favorite movie.

"Your father ruined thousands of lives during his reign here," he speaks. His head tilts and his dark hair falls onto his forehead. An uncomfortable silence falls between us as he uses the knife to prevent me from looking away. "It's only fair he crumbles down in the most painful way possible."

I attempt to swallow my saliva bitterly but it's so dry that I can't.

"You must've had it so hard after your father passed...." I speak up. My voice is dry but you can still hear the sympathy in it.

His eyebrows lower. He looks confused at my words, like he wasn't expecting to hear that.

"That must've been really hard," I continue while his eyes dart around my face. "I can't imagine going through something like that."

He looks away for a moment. His face shows the hurt that thinking about it causes him but he quickly sniffles and itches his forehead to play it off. He nods, "Yea. It was."