Bone Saw
Smashwords Edition
Stacey Thompson-Geer
Copyright 2011 Stacey Thompson-Geer
No part of this work can be copied without the author’s permission.
Published by: Wicked Nights
I open my eyes to a regular looking kitchen. The first thing I notice is the searing pain in my left side. I was tied to a chair. When I move my hands, the wire I'm bound with cuts into my skin. The sharp pain makes me think about what I'm doing. I slowly turn my head to the left to see a table covered with a white checkered table cloth. Lying on the table is a large butcher knife followed by what looks like a bone saw butchers use for cutting bones away from meat.
I move my feet in instinct. They slide on plastic covering the floor under me.
I take a deep breath and the smell makes me want to double over and throw up. It smells like rotting flesh and bone. I turn my head to the right trying to see down the long hall. I can hear the movement of someone working that way. Water running and whistling of the person that holds me held prisoner here.
I move my hands, trying to break them free. Another searing cut as the flesh is torn from the wire even deeper. I hear footsteps coming up the hallway towards the normal looking prison I'm stuck in. When I look up, my gaze is met by a young woman. She can't be more than twenty one. She smiles at me as she walks to the nearby table.
I hear metal clanging together as she moves knives around on the table.
“What do you want?” I ask trying to figure out why I'm here. She doesn't say anything in return.
I watch her pick up a handful of wire like I think is binding my hands. She stretches it out and pulls it taunt. I feel the panic rise up in my throat as she moves closer to me.
“I can give you anything you want. All you have to do is let me go,” I plead. She pauses and smiles at me again, before kneeling in front of me. She pulls off my left shoe and sock. I fight her, but she has me tied up in a way where I can only move my foot a little.
I hold my breath as she lowers the wire to a single toe and wraps it around it. She glances up at my face to see the terror in it before synching the wire down, causing the wire to cut though the skin of my pinky toe. I feel the searing pain and scream. She moves the wire just an inch at a time cutting flesh slowly and painfully. I wish she would just cut through it already so the pain could stop, but she's enjoying the pain in my eyes and the hot blood that is running down my foot.
The wire moves another inch and a little deeper into the flesh. Suddenly she stops moving the wire. I open my eyes and pray she is done with her torture. She waits only a minute before pulling the wire down my toe, ripping the flesh from bone. I scream as blood pours from the fleshless toe.
She pauses, staring at me with uncaring eyes. I don't know what to do to make her stop.
She stands and lays the wire on the table, picking up the large butcher knife instead. My eyes grow wide, afraid of what she has planned now.
She watches my reaction and puts the knife back on the table. I watch her fingers run over all the different things she has on the table. Some I can't see from where I'm sitting.
She picks up a small jar and glances at me.
I watch and pull at my bindings. The wire cuts deeper, making a new streak of warm fluid run down my fingers.
She kneels in front of me and picks up the flesh that was once a part of my toe and drops it in the jar of liquid. It fizzes around the skin and meat as it eats through it. The clear liquid is quickly turned to a pinkish color as all the flesh is dissolved in the jar.
She places my other foot in a metal container and smiles before dumping the pink tinged liquid on my foot.
I scream as it eats through the first layer of flesh. The acid travels through my foot like a boiling liquid. I pull at my bindings in reaction and my body tenses, but there is no way to stop the hot pain as it eats away my foot.
I
open my eyes only long enough to see the steam coming from the
boiling of the acid and my flesh. She's watching me. Our eyes lock
and the gaze is intense and hateful to the core.
The smell of
burning flesh imbeds itself to my nostrils. I know it's my own and
that makes it worse. I want to throw up, but nothing will come out.
My heart beats faster as my brain tries to function through the pain.
She stands; not removing my acid ate foot from the metal container. I try to breath, but air doesn't want to fill my lungs. I don't even watch her get her next tool of torture. My mind is fuzzy and pain is the only thing I seem to register.
She gives me a shot and watches as my eyes become clear again. She sets the empty shot where I can read it. Adrenaline. She wants me to feel it all and not pass out even though that is all I want to do.
I hear clanging of metal. Part of me doesn't care what she does now. Part of me just wants this to be over. I have to know why she's doing this to me.
“Why are you doing this?” I manage through the pain.
She doesn't answer, but looks to the wall on my right. I follow her gaze with a shaky move of my head. I see photos of families on the wall. None of them mean anything to me. I turn back to her.
“What
the fuck does that mean?” I almost manage to yell. She looks angry
and picks up the bone saw
I spotted earlier.
I take in a shaky breath, but follow her movement. She walks behind me and releases my bound hands. I know I can't get away with two busted up feet, but I have a fleeting moment of what if.
She pulls my right hand to the side and sits on a nearby chair I must not have noticed. She's watching my reaction as she shows me the saw.
I stare at her. I know I'm going to die. All there is to look forward too now is the end of the pain.
She sets the bone saw up at my elbow and stars to saw into my flesh. The first thing I noticed was the pain of tearing flesh. It is hot and slow. She works the saw slowly so I can feel every movement she makes. The warm blood runs down my arm and pools into a puddle on the plastic she has covering the floor.
I grit my teeth, but it doesn't help, the pain overwhelms me and I scream. Tears fill my eyes. I can hear the flesh tear until she gets to the bone.
She stops and watches me. I try to breath, but my lungs seem to not want to work. I wish she would just finish the job, but she is waiting. I don't know why, but I know she is. I open my eyes and stare back at her.
She smiles before continuing her work through the bone of my arm. I feel the dark coming. I pray for it. I welcome the end to the pain. I feel slaps on my face as she pulls my arm away from my body. I scream again and feel the blood running like a river from my severed arm.
I feel slaps again and open my eyes.
She lays my limb on my lap for me to see. I scream and feel my body draining of life.
She goes back to the table and picks up the wire she had started with. I'm in shock and can't stop screaming at the sight of my arm cut from my body. I feel the wire around my neck, but can't stop screaming. I just want it to be over.
She tightens the wire and my screaming stops. I feel the wire cutting, sawing threw my neck as she tightens it. I close my eyes waiting for the end. I feel the warm blood as it starts to drain from my neck. It runs down my chest, soaking my clothing. I try to breath, but it's impossible once the blood fills my throat.
I feel the dark coming.
She whispers one thing in my ear before I die. “Your sins will never be forgiven, Jack.”
***
She cleaned up the kitchen as the television played in the background.
“The head of the famed mob boss Jack Morrison was found today in a box outside his New York penthouse. Officials still are not sure how he died and are not saying if it was mob retaliation or not. Morrison was thought to have killed over a dozen families that opposed a new building project his company was working on.”
She smiled and flipped off the television.
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