Darkly Delicate

one | sweet pain

Aphrodite

I smile sweetly at the man through the window. I smooth out my white dress before stepping into the concrete cell. The man's wide, frightened eyes snap up to me. 

"Please spare me! I beg of you! I have a little daughter!" 

I continue to smile, nodding along to his words. I take a strand of my silky soft hair, twirling it around my finger as the man pleads for his life. 

"That's so nice. Don't worry, love, we've taken care of your sweet Cassie," I say, winking. His brown eyes bulge out of his crooked face. 

"How dare you hurt a harmless child!" He shrieks. 

I shrug innocently. Blink a couple of times. "She did scream a lot... She certainly hasn't been toughened up, hm? Such a shame she had to go..." 

The man is practically jumping up and down in his chair. He's shouting profanities at me, trying to break free from the steel restraints. 

Cassie is, in reality, tucked away in a safe home a few countries over. The Greeks didn't want to risk an innocent two-year-old's safety, seeing as the enemies of her father might try to find her. 

Her father royally screwed some gangs and Mafias over. 

Including the Greeks. 

I giggle softly, and step over to the tray filled of little metal equipment. I pick up a small scalpel. It glitters in the dim lighting of the cell. 

I turn on my heel back to the man, and hold up the scalpel so he can see it. He glares at me, but I see fear sparkle in his eyes. "Do you want to know what I'll do with this?" I ask warmly. 

He doesn't respond. He stares at his shoes, his body tensed. He knows what's about to happen to him. His dread fills my body with excitement. 

"I'll first slice off the tips of your fingers," I draw out my words, slowly inching towards him. His face pales. I place my knife on top of his index finger, pressing into it, but I take it out as soon as blood begins draw begins to fall from the wound. 

"I'm just teasing! I need you alive for longer than that. You'd loose lots of blood, and we can't waste medical supplies on you. You understand, right, love?" 

The man's head whips up. "Go to Hell, slut!" He curses me. 

I frown deeply. I place a finger on my lip, staring at him thoughtfully. "That's not very nice. Don't you know that naughty boys get punishments?"

He thrashes around in his chair. I chuckle quietly. I walk towards him, and draw the scalpel along his bare arm. Blood falls onto the concrete floor. He breathes in deeply. 

I continue to make small, careful incisions along his body. His arms. Legs. Chest. Calves. He's barely containing tears. 

This goes on for around an hour. 

As I place the scalpel down on the table, the cell door opens. Atlas stares at me, frowning. I grin in return. "Yes, my darling brother?" 

"You weren't supposed to torture anyone today," He points out. I roll my eyes. He raises an eyebrow. 

Screw what the therapist said.

"I'm not done with him yet." I tilt my head to the sliced up man beside me. 

"I think you are." 

"Atlas, you can go now." 

"Aphrodite." His tone is a warning. He narrows his eyes at me. I cross my arms over my chest, glaring at him.