Angel Of Misery - A Supernatural fanfiction [PART ONE] [COMPLETED]

Chapter 3: Pain

"Now, how are you, Lizzy? Still afraid?"
His voice sounded as if it was made from poison. Lizbeth was slumped against her chair, shaking. Her whole body was covered in cuts. They stung, blood dripping from each and every one. Tears streamed down her bloody and bruised face, leaving wet trails down her throat. Her voice was hoarse from screaming. Her throat was raw.
"D-Danny..." She whimpered, shaking once more.
"Danny's not here." Her brother replied, his eyes flickering between blue and black.
He dragged the knife across her arm with no pressure, keeping her fear high and not cutting her. The fear caused her to tremble even more.
She had many slices across her skin. Some were just deep enough to hurt. Others were deep enough to leave a scar, but not kill her. More harsh sobs escaped her as she struggled to break free. She screamed louder, but Daniel simply clicked his tongue.
"All of the neighbors moved out. Do you remember that, Liz? No one can hear you... So scream all you like."
She let out another cry of pain as Daniel began to carve into her again.
"Please... Stop..."
"I'll stop when your cold, dead body is on the floor." Daniel said calmly, cutting another deep slice.
The floor was coated in blood. It was sticky, and slowly turning the color of rust as it dried. Daniel smiled, and said, "I think I'm tired of knives... Let's move on to something else." He nonchalantly tossed the knife over his shoulder.
Then he turned the stove on.

The stove in their tiny apartment was old fashioned, as they couldn't afford to get a better one. It used gas to ignite a flame at the top, in which you could attempt to cook on and horribly burn your food... Which would now be Lizbeth's downfall.
Daniel placed a small metal rod on the flame. Then another. Then another. Then he waited.
One minute...
Two minutes...
Three minutes...
Four minutes...
Five minutes...
Daniel gingerly took a rod off the stove. He edged towards Lizbeth, leaving every moment full of uncontrollable, paralyzing fear. The burning hot metal was getting closer and closer to her.
4 feet away.
3 1/2 feet.
3.
2 1/2.
2.
1 1/2.
1.
6 inches.
Lizbeth could feel the blistering heat.
It was about to press against her when the door was kicked open.