The Offering

Chapter 33

I braced myself for the first impending plunge of the blade deep into my skin. I was unable to look and quickly forced my eyes closed, the image of Amelia with knife in hand forever burned into my mind. I yelped out loud as I felt her grasp my right hand, pulling my palm open before closing it again around something hard. I soon realised it was a knife handle and my panic was replaced with confusion.

I opened my eyes in utter bewilderment, looking over my shoulder just as Amelia slipped out of the door. I had no idea what sick plan she had in mind but neither was I about to wait around and see. I began to desperately yank at my handcuffed wrists, determined to escape even if it meant breaking bones to do so. I pulled as hard as I could, clenching my teeth in pain and shuffling manically on the wooden chair I was attached to. It was entirely pointless, there would be no lucky escape from this. Amelia had thought everything through, there was no margin for error.

I stopped abruptly when I heard the first cry. What followed I can only describe as sounding like some sort of vicious animal attack; a chorus of grunts, screams, cries and gurgles. Then nothing. Complete silence. The only sounds I heard then were the sounds of my own ragged breath and drumming heartbeat.

I couldn't piece together what was happening in my mind even though most of my disorientation had now cleared. The sheer panic I was experiencing was stopping the fractured pieces from slotting into place. I felt my breath catch in my throat as I heard footsteps coming back towards the door and so I braced myself once again for Amelia's wrath.

As Amelia entered again I found myself too horrified at the sight of her to manage to scream out loud. She was blood soaked, her disposable white boiler suit spattered with the evidence of her kill. The bloody knife still in her gloved hand. I watched as she tossed the knife onto the floor beside me and made her way back to the plastic box. Once there she removed her plastic gloves and the boiler suit with extreme care. I couldn't tell if it was because she didn't want the evidence to spread or if she didn't want to ruin her expensive outfit. What I was struck most by was her disturbing calm, she didn't seem at all phased by the heinous crime she had just committed.

I continued to watch as she thrust both the gloves and suit inside the box and replaced the lid. Then reaching for her purse which had been on the desk the entire time, she removed a powder case and re-applied her make up. Then wiping blood from her chin and cheek before fixing her perfect hair back into place. She carefully admired her own reflection in the powder case, as she did so I saw a smile pucker at the corner of her lips. An expression of pure and unmistakable delight folding into her sadistic face. It caused any trace of her beauty to immediately disintegrate and It was then I was able to see Amelia for how ugly she truly was.

"You won't get away with this," I feebly gave, though I didn't even believe that myself so there was little chance of unnerving Amelia.

"Of course I will, " she confidently responded as she returned the powder case to the purse, "and I really must thank you for helping me, I couldn't have done it without you. "

She left then with the box in hand, as she did I returned to my helpless attempt to pull at the cuffs. I needed a better plan, breaking my wrists was a lot harder than I'd imagined. I went still again once Amelia returned minutes later, grinning even more so than previously.

"I planned this so meticulously that I was quite upset when you came and disrupted my order," Amelia gave, "I really don't like it when my plans don't go the way I want them to but this is actually much better."