Living on the Island of Vaas (A Farcry Fanfiction)

Chapter 13: It Doesn't Matter Anymore

You know,I never thought I'd be able to kill someone.
The first time, it felt wrong. Which is good, right?
But now...it feels like winning. 

Chapter 13: It Doesn't Matter Anymore

To shut Myra up the next day, Vaas sent her off to the pond to bathe. He sent two of his most trusted men to go with her, telling them he'd skin them alive if they just as much as touched her hair. He knew with the threat that they wouldn't dare to touch her. With Myra out of the picture for awhile, he could get back to torturing. He itched so bad. Itched to take something away from someone. The itch was like a fire raging inside him, killing the only sanity he had left. 

He marched into another one of the dozen camps on his island. He picked out a man who looked in his thirties and brought him in a hut. There, he skinned the mans arms, nailed his hands to a chair, sewed his nostrils together, and scalped him. After Vaas was finished, the man was just a messy structure of blood, broken bones, and abused muscles. Vaas didn't want to end this, but the man had fallen unconscious. Vaas hated when that happened, because he couldn't make them scream and then tell them to shut the fuck up. He hated when he had to wake them up with electricity, but it was funny. He found it particularly hilarious to watch their bodies spasm and their heads shake. He also liked to hear the sounds they made. After he'd finish with his victims, the air always smelled of blood and was heavy with lingering death. He liked the feeling. The feeling of power that he had created all this. He enjoyed sitting in the room after, just absorbing the smell and feeling. 

Myra had shown quite the skills back at training. She had shown determination and will. She was willing to learn and become stronger. Vaas' idea was to toughen her out, physically and mentally. She had to see his work, to see the tortures he inflicted to people. Vaas wanted Myra to be here the next time he tortured, he wanted to see her reaction, see from what he had to work with. Would she stay frozen, like the temperature of her flesh? Or would she boil to rip the victim in half with her teeth? He knew Myra wasn't weak, and it just made it more tempting to try to break her. 

****

Myra flopped down on her crate, exhausted and sweaty. Timo had her working at the kitchen all day since Vaas was gone. It had been two days since Citra's appearance and Vaas hadn't been very present. Myra wasn't scared to be left alone, she just didn't want to get attacked. "Did I say you could sit, Brave?" Timo asked, coming around to tap her shoulder. He winced at the phenomenally cold temperature of her skin. They had been cooking stew and all sorts of things and the air was heavy with smoke. It was hot in the kitchen and Myra felt like she was suffocating. 

"But, Timo, it's so hot in here!" she whined. He chuckled and went back to cutting the meat with his kitchen knife. 

"Get to the cutting, pequeño," he joked. "You feel like a walking corpse." Myra rolled her eyes, but obeyed. She went back to where she was cutting vegetables.  

"Well, pequeño is getting tired!" she whined again. 

"Quite your whining, Brave, and start cutting!" he ordered. She sighed, slicing up the veggies under her knife. Her hands were red and she cut her fingers so many times that she lost count. Tiny burns peppered her wrists and hands due to when she went to close to the fire. She even burned the tips of her hair. Thinking of it, she needed a hair cut. Her hair was getting really long, starting to touch her waist. Maybe she could cut it up to her middle back again. 

"Oh, I almost forgot, shit!" Timo cursed. Myra looked up. He held a tray filled with wooden bowls of rice. Food for the captives.

"I'll go," she said. Timo shook his head. 

"No, it's my job," he retorted. Myra rolled her eyes and stepped in front of him, holding her hands out expectantly. 

"C'mon, jefe de cocina," she said, saying the Spanish words Timo had taught her. He smiled.