I gasp and step back. Curling my lip, I consider how to get him up.
“If you can get up and open one of the doors, I’ll let you go.”
Finally, hope trickles back into his eyes. The pain was overbearing, and he started to give up. He just needed a little nudge to get going.
“Ring around the rosies,” I sing, taking on the child-like haunting voice. His movements quicken, and soon enough, he’s back on his feet and limping down the hallway. Broken foot be damned.
Giddiness overtakes me. I bounce on my feet, giving him a good head start. He’ll be laughably easy to catch. I don’t want it to be over too soon.
“Pocket full of posies.”
Several crashes followed by loud cursing. H
e fell down the stairs. I laugh loudly and run out of the room and make my way to the stairs. He’s at the bottom, groaning in pain as he struggles to get up. When he spots me, his eyes widen and resumes his struggles with renewed energy.
Colorful curses slither from his mouth as he gets back up on his feet and turns towards the front door. Cronus is standing there, completely still as he watches Gary.
“What is wrong with you? I thought you wanted me to run?!” he shouts. Cronus doesn’t react. I tiptoe down the stairs, stopping halfway down.
“I said you have to open the door,” I clarify. He doesn’t turn to acknowledge me, the scary man before him stealing all his attention and fear. But he does listen. He barrels towards Cronus, shoves him aside, bends and bites onto the handle.
I giggle, amused by how cute he looks trying to open a door with his mouth. For a solid minute, I let him struggle to open the door with his teeth. He then switches tactics, balancing on his good foot while using his knee and fingerless hand to clutch the handle. He wobbles and falls before he can make any progress. He’s lost too much blood and is becoming weaker.
“Here I come,” I taunt, coming further down the stairs.
Snarling, he whips away from the door and drags himself down the hallway, leaning his shoulder against the wall for support. Quickly, I descend the rest of the stairs and watch as he painstakingly makes his way into the kitchen. He glances back at me, his eyes rounding when he sees me standing there.
He’ll be sorely disappointed when he finds Baine or Timothy at the other exit point.
Green and purple smoke unfurls from the machines in the corners, thickening in the hallway. Gary disappears, his torn apart body swallowed by the smoke and flashing strobe lights. I can hear his grunts and curses.
At one point, I hear a sharp crack, followed by a loud shout from Gary. I’m pretty sure his foot just broke further. I run through the living room and around to the kitchen, coming through a side entrance. Off to the side of the kitchen is a tiny foyer with a staircase and the only other exit. When guests are finished upstairs, they come down that staircase and exit through the door. Standing guard in front of the foyer is Baine—my little grim reaper.
That’s who he’s dressed up as, with his black hooded cloak and skeletal body. He puts Mortis’s body to shame, with the entirety of his rib cage poking through his grey-painted skin. Along with every other bone in his body. He says he doesn’t like to eat, and I don’t push him to correct his eating disorder. His cock is skinny but is the longest out of the bunch so he always gets to fuck my ass.
“Motherfucking, BITCH!”
I slap a hand over my mouth as more cackles release from my mouth.
Gary’s head drops, hopelessness seeming to consume him. His shoulders shudder as a sob wracks his throat. My hand falls and I walk closer, getting a full view of him. Tears stream down his bloodied face, producing pretty pink tears that drip off his face and onto the floor.
“Just fucking kill me,” he sobs. He sways, losing all fight and nearly collapsing to the floor. His body jolts as he cries, and finally, it folds in on itself and he falls to the ground. His sobs deepen, while Baine and I share a look.
How pathetic. Raping and abusing women and when he’s abused in return, it’s one big pity party.
“Are you going to admit to your sins?” I ask, stepping closer and leaning down, putting my face directly into his.
“What sins?” he blubbers, snot leaking into his mouth.
I slap him, my own hand stinging from the impact. “Don’t play stupid! What did you do to, Jennifer?” I interrogate, curling my lip over my teeth.
“I…I had sex with her.”
Apparently, his ears stopped working. I grip my knife and plunge it into his stomach. He gasps, blood mixing into his saliva as he coughs.
“I’ll ask again,” I say serenely. “What did you do to her?”
He sniffles. “I raped her,” he confesses on a pitiful cry. “She was my girlfriend! I didn’t think it was that big of a deal!”