drabbles

torture .

"Please don't hurt me," She whimpered as I hovered over her, a large grin plastered on my face.

"Oh, Hun," I cooed, "I'm not just going to hurt you," Her face slowly lit up in relief.

I shoved her, so she laid down flat against the hardwood floor. I sat on top of her, pinning her to the floor.

"No," I swear my face could split at any moment in time due to how big my smile was, "I'm not just going to hurt you. No, I'm going to torture you. I'm going to tie you to that chair, right there, and nail your hands into the arm rest. I'm going to slice your inner elbows and the creases of your fingers so you hurt and hurt but you don't die. Just like how I hurt and hurt and didn't – couldn't – die."

The color drained from her face and fear filled her eyes, while joy and excitement filled mine. I grasped her shoulders.

"Let's get started, shall we?" I asked, my smile still intact as she cried loudly.

"Tsk tsk, no one can hear you down here. You're hurting my ears too, no need to scream," I frowned, positioning my fingers around her shoulder, where her joint met her socket, so that when I grabbed her and pulled her up it would spend her into excruciating pain and, if I'm lucky, dislocate her shoulder.

I tugged her up, giggling as she screamed. Big, fat tears rolled down her cheeks as she screamed again.

My smile faltered once more as I quickly grew annoyed with her screaming.

"Derrick!" I yelled.

A tall, lanky brunette man rushed into the room.

"Yes?" He asked.

"I want her vocal cords snipped and her voice box removed," I requested, squeezing her neck tightly as she began to scream.

"That's not-"

I raised my eye brows as he began to correct me.

"Yes, Ma'am," He rolled his eyes as I shoved her towards him. He injected her neck with sedatives and she went limp in his grasp. He threw her over his shoulder and walked out of the room.

-

In a new room now, I was setting up all of my stolen tools from Derrick – he's a psychopathic surgeon, how fun, I know – as she started to wake up.

"Good morning, sunshine!" I squealed, adjusting the silver nail on the center of her palm.

In this moment, she was strapped to an old shock therapy chair Derrick had laying around – snicker – and her palms were flat against the arm rests. Her hair was in a bun – kudos to me – at the top of her head, the silver bar around her forehead.

But, due to its enormous size, the silver band only took up half of her forehead. There were leather straps around her waist, biceps, wrists, calves, and ankles.

I positioned the hammer on the top part of the nail, and the split second I hammered down, I changed my mind.

Instead, I switched out the nail for a screw, assuming it'll hurt more because of its ragged edges. Then, I hammered it through flesh, muscle, bone, then finally, the wood. It was hard to do with the hammer. So, half way through, I decided to take out the screw driver.

She was screaming, or at least tried to. All that came out was a rasped hum.

"Aw, cat's got your tongue, love?" I laughed, repeating the same process to her other hand. Sweat dripped down the side of her face, further smudging her makeup.

Next, I took my blade and made small cuts at the creases of her knuckles on her hands. I paid close attention to the web of skin between each finger as well. Dark, crimson blood spotted at the surface.

The hisses and rasps of silent cries that escaped her throat was like music to my ears. Each cut I made to her tanned skin cause another hiss of pain, which in turn, was similar to another song on an album. Another note in an orchestral piece.

I paused mid thought.

"Derrick!" I called once more, placing my knife down.

"What?" He droned back, annoyed.

"Can you turn on some Schubert, please?" I asked. He groaned, but a couple seconds later, Schubert filled the room.

I hummed along to the music, picking up one of my scalpels.

"Say ah, bitch," I bustled, grasping her jaw roughly.

But, she made it difficult.

"It's the hard way or my way, choose," I spat.

More tears poured down her cheeks as she kept her jaw shut tightly.

"I guess you're choosing my way," I shrugged, "Derrick!"

"What now, child?" He huffed, storming into the room.

"She won't open her mouth," I pouted. He came around behind the chair, easily towering over it at the height of 6'6", and forced her jaw open. His white latex glove clad hands contrasted against her tanned skin.

I placed the blade of the scalpel at the tender skin of where her lips met.

"My way," I hummed before slicing her skin. Blood splashed.

I felt the scalpel cutting through all the skin of her cheek as I angled it higher, scraping against her teeth and cheek bone. I repeated the process to the other cheek, slower this time as I focused on her throat constricting in an inaudible scream.

"I told you not to introduce this to me again, Jen," Derrick tutted, his lips stretching into a sickening smile.

I grinned in excitement, watching his sanity twist once more.

"Don't kill her, not this quickly," I murmured, cupping Derrick's cheek. I placed my lips softly to his, moaning softly as the slight taste of blood could be found.

I pulled away, only to get into her face. I grabbed the bun, tugging it so that her stitches popped. I let out a loud, metallic laugh.

"Oops, my bad. Let me redo them," I giggled, grasping the sewing needle and thread from my table. I slowly stitched the wound back together, grinning even wider as she began to choke on her own blood.

I pouted as I finished.

"Fix her. That wasn't enough play time."

a/n

"sadistic much?" - srag [ xxnoitciddaxx ]