ultraviolence // kai anderson

𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕦𝕖

    "Stop," Kai orders, "everybody stop." He says it low, hardly above speaking level. Still, everyone in the room -- except our victim of course -- freezes. I'm searching his face for any indication of what he's about to do as he takes the few short steps directly over to me. With every pair of eyes in the room plastered on me, a knot of fear takes hold in my stomach. Do I really even know these people? What they're capable of, and how much of it they're willing to do? Could I just as easily be in that struggling man's position if I don't comply? Only seconds pass as these questions race through my mind.

    Kai sighs and runs a hand down his face: I've disappointed him. He uses that same hand, once it slides down and off his stubbly chin, to backhand me so hard I fall to my knees right there in front of everyone. An involuntary gasp escapes me, and without thinking my right hand rises to press against my stinging cheek. It's hotter than the rest of my face already, and the sudden shock of it has me struggling to catch my breath. My gaze is locked now on Kai's steel toe boots, but when I see his darkening shadow, I realize he's lowering into a crouching position to be eye level with me. I find the strength, for him, to meet his eyes. His head is tilted and there is neither amusement or remorse anywhere on his face. He studies me for a moment, and I pray that he can see the repentance in my submission.

    "This man," he gestures behind himself without looking away from me, and the man being held down in his bed struggles to no avail. "Was so close to an easy death." He pauses, all of us anticipating what he'll do or say next. "But thanks to your... apprehension: smothering is out, and limb-severing is in." His voice rises with those last four words, and a cheer of approval comes from behind him, which prompts the others to join. My body suddenly feels like concrete, heavy and unmovable. Grabbing both sides of my jaw from beneath, he brings his mouth to my ear and menacingly whispers, "Now watch."
   I'm forced to, then, as Kai moves from in front of me to beside me and keeps his grip on me all the while. He give one slow nod to the rest of the group, and they each pull out their own sharp tool from either their belts, their boots, or the inside of their jackets. I try my best to avoid the victim's face, more specifically his frantic eyes, but there's nothing I can do to not hear his panicked attempts at screaming around the rag shoved in his mouth.

    Movies and television do not do murders justice. Can not. To see it in front of your own face changes something inside you forever. The sound of flesh tearing, the coppery smell of the blood spilling out, the desperate screams as they go from raucous to strained to silent. The knives persevering through bones even after the victim lay lifeless, his eyes still open but seeing nothing, and the blood pooling quickly enough to be at your own feet any moment. I steal a sideways glance at Kai, only to see a smirk of approval on his lips and a light of enjoyment in his black eyes. He's happy again.

    I looked back to what is now only a corpse, and decide instantly that the permanent change it has caused within me is a small price to pay for Kai's approval. A tear slides down my burning cheek, but not for our victim. It hits me suddenly that if Kai had no use for me, if he thought nothing of me, if he didn't care for me even the tiniest bit-- I could never have gotten such an emotional reaction out of him. He was teaching me to be strong, and to trust him. He wanted me in this group, wanted me with him. As far as I'm concerned, his explosive hand across my face may as well have been our first kiss.