Echoes of the Broken

The man tied to the chair in front on me was unconscious and naked, not for much longer. Well, I hope so I can’t be standing like this all night, he’s not the only one I need to take care of tonight. But what I was planning for him promises to be exciting.

The man growls as he opens his eyes, probably shock by the fact that he’s stuck to a chair and the large tarpaulin under him. The show was about to begin.

"Edward Miller, glad to meet you. I’m Stella White you surely have no clue off who I am but don’t worry will get to know each other quickly."

"LET ME OUT!"

"I’m sure you know why you’re here don’t you darling?"

"NO! LET ME GO!"

"Don’t make me laugh, think about it harder."

As I walk around him with deliberate steps, I retrieve my precious eight inches knife from the side of my black knee length boots. I press the tip of it gently on his shoulder, sliding it all the way to his wrist, leaving a bloody line along the entire length of his arm.

"GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME YOU SLUT!"

"Oh, sweety the fun hasn’t even started yet."

He doesn’t stop growling in pain as I rip every inch of skin he has on his arm, and I enjoy every second of it. His muscles fiber twitch when it gets in contact with the air making it even funnier. Who would have thought that this huge man will be that sweaty and trembling while being torture.

As I take a step back admiring my project midway through, the blood covering the floor made me flitch for a second.

***

That much blood always takes me back to that night when my mother killed my father. I was eight years old. There was blood on the floor, the walls, the kitchen table, the curtain. It was every where. My mother was standing there looking over the dead body of my father, the knife still in her hand. When she looked at me, I cried. I tried to run and hide with all the strength I had but nothing. I was luck in place unable to do anything else then cry.

This man was never playing with me nor paying attention to what I was doing but he was still my father, I loved him, but the women I thought I knew just killed him right in front of me. I didn’t recognise her, the life had quite her eyes, and she was paralyzed.

Later that week, she was taken to jail, and I ended up in a foster home. I never understood why she did that and what could even justify killing someone. At that moment I promised myself that I will be nothing close to her and kept her away from me for ever. Until one day the temptation win.

***

She was there on the other side of the glace in a plain orange jumpsuit, dark circles under her eyes and hair were wild tangle, untouched by a brush for far too long. We look at each other in silence for what felt like an eternity. I took the phone on the side and tried to come up with a good sentence but all I said was…

"Why?"

"I didn’t have the choice honey."

"YES, YOU DID! we always have the choice, and you don’t get to call me that anymore."

"I wanted to protect us honey, that have always been my motive please don’t doubt it. I always loved you, I…"

"YOU KILLED HIM! How could you possibly want to protect anyone!"

"That night I killed him… he…he had raped me tree time and got bored of me. He said I wasn’t tight enough for him anymore and he was on his way to take your innocence. I could let that happen. I preferred to be in jail for the remainder of my days, then knowing that he did this to my baby. I… I couldn’t carry this burden."

I didn’t know how to react. I’ve thought for years about her motive, but I would never have guessed that. How could the man I defended all along end up being the worse motherfucker. I couldn’t bare the fact that he abused my mother multiple time, how could he done that shit and pretend he loved her.

When I looked at her, she was staring into nothing, her gaze drifting far beyond the room, trapped deep inside her own thoughts.

***

"Still no clue why you’re here darling?"

He screams, not answering my question too preoccupied with the pain in his arm.

Did you forget about the forty-seven young girl you brutally assaulted? Just to make it even worse, none off them were over twelve years old. You stole their childhood and their innocence from them. When you rapped them, you made them think that their body isn’t a safe space and that their body no longer belongs to them. They were babies, and since I can’t make you feel exactly what you did to them, I’m going to make you feel ten times worse. Are you ready for the grand finale dear?

I took my blade right under his balls, he looked at me mortify, I smile back at him and whit a flick of the wrist I cut them off. They landed in the pool of blood in a sploosh.

He his so shook his mouth is wide open and his eyes still couldn’t believe what just happened.

"Don’t worry my dear, the fun isn’t finish yet, you’ll have to eat them. We can’t let those saggy balls stay on the floor with all that blood, can we?"

I took one of his balls cut it in half and shove it down his mouth. I repeat the same process with the tree other half without letting him swallow them. I sit in front of him waiting for him to chokes with his own balls.

Lilianne Ethier