Abigails Sin

Chains

My head wobbled with a dull ache. Blackness surrounded me even when I squinted from the rising pain just behind my eyes. It was then that I became very aware of the constraints holding me to a hard wooden chair beneath me. I pulled at my wrists digging the rope deeper into my already sensitive skin. 

"You're awake" a small lamp on a nearby table lit up the room. It was the same room that I had been bound in with Hudson. My spine crawled from the earliest memories I had in this room, the only ones I had but I assumed that was about to change. His hand twirled a small knife between his fingers delicately, over and over not caring to look over at me. A very blank expression on his features that seemed to match his plain black button up shirt and jeans. I scanned all the objects on the table, noticing how stains of blood lingered on its surface.  An array of different tools scattered about like play things, though I suppose to him they were. He stood now, dark eyes settling on me like a wolf finally zeroing in on its prey. As beautiful as it was deadly.

"When I first met you I thought you were an open book" he gestured wide with his muscular arms. "I thought that you had experienced enough sin in your life" he considered his words and shrugged "but now I see you're just like your brother, filled with sin" he kneeled down in front of me. The knife still grasped firmly between his fingers. The lamp light glinted in his irises reminding me of a deep uncontrollable fire. 

"Joseph pointed out to me how selfish I was being with you, always receiving, always taking. But the best gift isn't the one you get its the one you give. Giving takes courage" his eyes widened and fastened on me, clearly unable to control his emotions. He stood going back to his table of metallic knifes and tools. Grabbing a small tattoo gun from the table and hooking it up to a line directly beside my chair. "I once though that you owned all of your sin. You had courage even. But you never had the courage to own your sin. To etch it onto your flesh and carry its burden and when you have endured when you have truly began to atone to cut it out like a cancer and display it for all to see" he wagged his finger at me accusingly "no you kept them all hidden".  His strong fingers interlaced with the fabric of my shirt ripping the fabric to the sides easily, exposing my chest to him, my scars. He was loosing the calmness that he once had about him, a somewhat psychotic rage coming through in his voice as the tattoo gun buzzed to life in his hand. "My god thats courage. Im going to teach your courage Abigail. Teach you how to say yes so you can confront your weaknesses. To confront your sins you will swim across an ocean of pain and emerge free. For only then can you truly begin to atone". He looked me up and down. Eyes lingering in places before returning back to my eyes. I bit down on my lip to avoid saying anything to him, to avoid hateful words that were stewing in the back of my throat. He was angry, an anger that I had felt all to recently. I couldn't comfort him, after all there was nothing I could say that would change anything. He saw me as his brothers murderer and that was all I could be in this moment. Anything that had happened between us before was long gone, in our heads the only emotions that now sat in control were sorrow and anger, a very hateful combination.

"Unless you have anything to say" he held the tattoo gun just above my skin. I could feel the slight vibrations going down his arm and into the chair I was sitting on. I knew what he wanted me to say, to beg. I couldn't say anything. Keeping Grace from harm was the only thing I could hope to do now. I hadn't killed Jacob, no matter how much I wanted to do it I couldn't bring myself to pull the trigger but Grace had and even John knew his brother's killer would be hunted down and stripped of life. I had at least a fighting chance to survive John's torture, his anger exposed like a raw nerve, I had the chance to get away without the penalty of death.  "Fine then Abigail, Im going to open you and pour your worst fears inside and as you choke your sins will reveal themselves" he smiled. A sickening smile that I once thought I could have only saw on Jacobs face. This of course only served to making me think back to Jacob falling into my arms. How Jacob had held the small of my back the last true time I had seen him. The furry of his memory startling anger inside me that I would use to keep going. After all I couldn't bargain with him. There was nothing he wanted, nothing he could lose. You can't bargain with a man like John. He smirked up at me, a devilish grin that would set me on edge, I pushed myself back in the chair as far from him as I could be but the tattoo gun came closer anyway. The needle biting into the skin right below my collarbone. His fingers holding steady as he worked though the lettering of my sins. When I was younger I had always wanted a tattoo. Something beautiful to cover the ugliness of my scars but now, now I would just have more of the same. The needle stung, over and over as he retraced the lines to make sure they were clear. He finished. Just four letters and before he could even say the word I knew what he had etched onto me

"Lust" he set down the gun on the table

"I only get one?" I sarcastically remarked

"oh no no no" he placed both of his hands on either side of the chair bringing his face up to mine. "I said I would make you confess to every single sin you've ever committed this is just one I know that you are guilty of" his breath was hot on my ear. I closed my eyes. Ignoring how close he was to me

"I've already told you all my sins John" I whispered

"but now I know you're a liar" his tongue flicked over his bottom lip briefly. A deep hunger for blood and pain. My pain. "It makes no difference to me. Confession without pain isn't confession". He grabbed a slender knife from the table bringing it back over to me. The sharp edge of it tracing along my ribcage. The coldness was the first thing that I had noticed, not the hot blood that would trail down my skin to the hem of my paints. 

"John you don't have to do this" I said, hoping there was still an once of kindness towards me left inside the shell of him. His eyes flashed up to mine

"oh but I do." He made another, deeper incision below the one he had so recently made. I bit down on my lip refusing to give him the satisfaction of my pain but by the look that crossed his face he was already getting it. "Joseph still thinks you can be saved. That now with your brother out of the way there will be nothing stopping you from wholeheartedly giving yourself to the project". My breathing was deep and shaky. He looked at the knife, a small drop of my blood sliding down to the hilt and onto his fingers. I had been cut before, deeper and worse than what he was doing and this he knew. He dug the knife into the hem of my pants, digging into the soft tissue as he yanked the knife through the waist of my pants, cutting them all the way down to my knee. He did this on both sides, pulling the fabric and leaving my bare legs exposed to him. His fingers encircled the small amount of fabric that clung to my torso and ripped it, letting the cloth fall to the floor soundlessly. 

"What are you doing?!" I demanded

"demands are for someone in a seat of power, you Abigail have none. So I suggest you stay quiet until  speak to you" his eyes drifted over my body, taking in all of me before returning to my face. "You might think that I don't know what you're afraid of Abigail but I do. Maybe it's not pain or injury but its there. Fear." he stepped back from me. "You're afraid of being exposed. Afraid of being alone. Well you are exposed and you are alone, except for me. I'll be the only person you see and it'll drive you mad because no one knows where you are Abigail. No one is looking for you and no one will find you" His voice was ragged but quiet. A soft threat that sounded almost as horrifying as it did haunting. A grin settled on his face showing his hold over me wasn't only for Joseph. He turned off the small lamp that was lighting the room. The door slamming shut behind him the last sound that I heard.