Chapter Seventy-One: Cut and Bruised

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Trigger warning for physical abuse with knives. Although, why would you still be here if you didn't like the killing and slashing earlier is beyond me.

I went downstairs to the basement with the knife block, some cigarettes, and a box of matches. Amaro, my shadow, turned on the cold fluorescent lights as I locked the door.

Vincent stared up at me with fear as I tied my hair in a loose ponytail and brushed off my dress a little bit because of how much dust was floating around down here.

I summoned a radio and my microphone, starting a broadcast as I lit a cigarette.

Mr Bosco was halfway through the sports news segment, describing last night's football game and announcing the winner of the last basketball game.

"Hello, Mr Bosco." I greeted him cheerfully.

"What do you want, Mr Glass?" He grumbled.

"I just found my next victim to torture and I must say, I am very pleased with myself. It's been an age since I've tortured someone." I exclaimed.

"Well, can it wait till I'm done?" Mr Bosco asked.

"Ha! Depends on how long you have left." I replied.

"Fine, go ahead." Mr Bosco sighed.

"Thank you, sir!" I said, blowing the smoke all over Vincent's face. Vincent coughed and wheezed in response, causing me to laugh as I burnt him with the butt of my cigarette.

"Time for the knives." I crooned, pulling out one of my many knives after flicking my cigarette on the ground and stomping it out. I took a better look at my victim's body, noting that his arms had long yellow wings growing out of them, his head had two thick horns, and his ears were long and floppy.

I decided to cut holes in his wings with my knife, chuckling as he started to scream. Amaro held my microphone so it would catch all our noise.

I started to sing "Puttin' on the Ritz" absentmindedly as I slashed at his exposed yellowy skin. Vincent screamed as I sang into the microphone and blood covered the floor, my hands, my knives, the bottoms of my pumps, his skin, the mattress he was tied down on, the bottom of my dress, and the train at the back of my dress.

I laughed, smearing blood all over my face. He stared up at me with his hazy eyes full of pure fear as I stared down at him with a wide insane smile.

"Oh, don't worry, my dear, pain is a constant dark ominous cloud that hangs over all our heads. It's just a matter of how you cope. You, my dear, don't seem to have a way to cope...that keeps you vulnerable..." I crooned, half to my microphone, half to Vincent. "You have a long time of justified abuse over the next...oh maybe just under a week, if you survive that long. But for now, let's get you cleaned up. We wouldn't want my jambalaya meat to be dry and ruined, would we?" I chuckled lightly, still coming off as threatening. "Dear viewers, thank you for listening to me slash up this man who raped one of my dearest friend's little girl. I hope you enjoyed. Now, back to sports news!"

jESUS FUCKING CHRIST, ALASTOR. YOU'VE TURNED INTO CECIL PALMER.

I bandaged him up after dumping a bucket of cold water on him to "disinfect" his new wounds(no bastard like him deserves a warm bath after raping a sweet little girl). He shivered as he sat there, drenched with only bandaids and a pair of bright pink panties on him.

"I would give you a blanket of some sort if you weren't such a bastard child. You are the type of person who deserves to be rotting here in hell." I said as I watched him with my arms crossed from next to the stairs.

"I know that now... I shouldn't've done that." Vincent choked out, his voice hoarse from all his screaming.

"Damn right. I'll be back shortly to move your sorry ass to a different room. It's too cold down here for you to remain alive in your state and I do not want to thaw your body out so I can cook when I could have fresh meat." I said before walking upstairs.

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