The Bare Truth part 2

Chapter 21

At some point Dorrian had unchained her. It didn't matter, because she no longer had the strength to fight back anyway.

He had left her there on the floor, bloody and bruised, her body struggling to heal itself. Morning light was just starting to stream through the windows.

She had thought he was going to kill her that night. Many times, she had wished he would just kill her. She had expected him to just finish her off when he was done.

But Dorrian had bigger plans for her than that. He told her, before he left, that she wasn't going to die quietly in this room. He had to make sure there was an audience first. The children were talking, you see, about Gina's escape. If fear really was his only tool, then he was going to use that to its full potential. She was going to die today, but she wasn't going to die quietly in this room. Oh no. He was going to assemble all the children in the lobby and execute her in front of them. He just hadn't quite made up his mind on how to kill her yet. He was debating between having his leopards rip her apart and eat her, and a good, old-fashioned crucifixion.

She had known that Dorrian was egotistical, and sociopathic. But she hadn't realized quite how sick he was. She shuddered, trying to block out the memories of what she had endured the night before.

Dorrian was very, very sick.

How long had it been since he had left her? Hours? Was it daylight when he left, or still dark? The pain made everything confusing.

But the pain was fading with remarkable speed. This new body of hers was an amazing thing. It was the first time she got to appreciate her accelerated healing. The burn on her shoulder had healed already, leaving behind a knotted pink scar. The rest of her body was putting itself back together, little by little.

She wondered how long it would be before he came for her. Before her public execution was staged in front of dozens of horrified children.

Maybe she could do something to prevent that.

Slowly, she pried herself off the floor. Trying valiantly not to think too hard about what she was doing, Sierra considered the array of instruments lined up neatly on the wall in front of her. Her legs shook as she walked along the wall, letting her fingers trail across them as she considered each one. Her fingertips dusted the handle of a hammer, the curved blade of a scythe, the fine point of a stake, and the cool metal of a bowie knife.

Could she do it?

Was she brave enough to do this?

If she was going to die, she didn't want her death to be some sick teaching moment for Dorrian.

But could she do it?

She had almost convinced herself that she couldn't when she came upon an electric carving knife. It was the kind you'd use for a Thanksgiving turkey. She picked it up. In her mind's eye, she saw that Hallmark image of a family gathered around the table while dad sawed off a neat slice of turkey. Sickened by the image, she dropped the knife and threw up all over the blood stained, blue carpet.

She knelt there for a moment, gathering herself. She took a deep breath, then stood up and picked up the knife. She took the power cord and plugged it into the wall.

It'll be easy, she told herself. The knife will do all the cutting for her. It will hardly take any pressure from her. She could go straight for the artery in her neck. She'd bleed out quickly. Maybe a minute, and it would all be over. And surely it would be less painful than whatever Dorrian had planned for her. Certainly less painful than what she had endured last night.

She flipped the switch to turn the knife on. The mechanical whir of the blade was almost impossibly loud. The sound drilled into her head, filling her with cold terror. She almost turned it off then.

Almost.

Summoning her resolve, she took a moment to think about Joe. Her wonderful, strong Joe. She hoped that he'd find a way to get by without her. Tears ran down her face as she considered that an afterlife wasn't necessarily in the cards for an immortal. That she may wait for him in Heaven for a very, very long time.

"I love you, Joe," she whispered, and with shaking hands, she raised the knife to her neck.