Crimson sprays up from the slit on her delicate pale wrist. It covers the walls, floor and ceiling of the small white apartment. The blood that is spraying starts to slow to a steady trickle. It runs down her soft pastel skin. It splatters on the girl's white blouse. The grip I have around my knife, which is protruding from both sides of her left forearm, is so tight, the blade digs into my blood covered hands. I twist the knife. She screams, but the high-pitched whines do not affect my emotions at all. I pay little attention to it as I focus on the cracking of bones instead. The reward of my waiting comes quickly... crack, crack... lovely cracks fill my ears. I smile, looking up at a blood-covered mirror, to see a smile that would make anyone's skin crawl. Crawling skin and cracking bones, that's the way I like it.
I get up and walk to my bag. As I unzip it, in the corner of my eye, I see the girl lookup. Good. I pull out my notepad and flip it open. I write down the question that is my cursed reminder, What is one-thousand minus seven? I giggle. My giggle makes the girl shake her head and try to get away. She struggles in her bonds.
I make my way back to her and I plop down onto her stomach, placing the notepad next to us. She cries out in pain. My hands fly to her chin, cupping her face, keeping her head still.
'Please, let me go. I promise I won't tell anyone what happened and I can't see your face in that mask. I am not a threat.' The girl's pleads make me sick.
Without any signs or warnings I lift my right hand and slap the girl's face. Clap. My left hand, no longer cupping her face, now tightly grips her chin. She stares blankly at me, but the tears and sobs are no rival over the clicks inside of my mind. I count them. I grab my notebook, and as I tremble with anger, the notebook trembles with me. I shove it in her face.
The girl stares at me, but she doesn't respond. I pat her cheeks, holding the notebook in front of me. I bend my head to the side and lift my left hand to the notebook and tap the question. Still she stares at me... click... click.Under my black mask my left eye twitches. I smile innocently at her and nod.
'I... I... I... I don't know what you mean.' Her eyes widen and terror fills them.
Rage overtakes me. It's so simple. Why can't she get it?' I am losing my patience with her I am going to snap soon.
My left hand grabs the knife. 'NO, NO, NO! PLEASE DON'T.' She screams as I twist. The sound of grinding bones, and a scraping on the floor, fills the silent room.
With one more rotation of my knife I let go and tap the notepad in frustration. Answer this question, I scream in my head. Tapping the notepad faster trying not to lose it completely. She stares at the notepad, tears rolling down her soft skin. 'W...what is one-thousand m...m...minus seven?'
I stop tapping and nod.
'It...it's nine-hundred and ninety-three.'
Yes, yes she finally gets it. My mind begins to hear the cracking of my bones over and over again, click, click, click. I flip the notepad around and write down: now keep subtracting seven all the way down to zero and each time you get it wrong you have to start again. I smile cruelly, as she starts to count. My eyesight blurs and my mind focuses on the click, click, click, click. Everything turns black... then the counting starts.
~continues reading Click part 2~
YOU ARE READING
Unfortunate Little Sister, Broken Big Brother
HorrorI don't really know what I am doing but this is the first story I have put up hope you like it. It is a light horror and I took the idea for it from Tokyo Ghoul so if it is similar apologies. Please leave feed back.