The Skin Thief

Chapter 7

The breath leaves my body as his fist slams into my stomach. I lurch and retch. A grunt leaves my mouth as he punches me once more. He throws me to the ground and for a few seconds, I can't breathe. My vision is blurred and deep, painful aches consume my lower torso. I clutch at it protectively. There is a flash before pain erupts across my face. In a second, my head is hitting the cold floor.

I cough and splutter, tasting blood in my mouth. When I spit, it is thick and red. I let in a long, gasped breath. A guttural scream leaves my mouth as his tight fists wrap around my hair and he yanks my head back violently. All that fills my blurred vision is his black mask.

"Tell me your fucking name," he growls. I can't speak. Instead, I smile and start laughing. I've been beaten before and I'll be beaten again. It is comical to me that they think this will break me. Plus, somehow, laughing in his face makes a little bit of the pain go away as it feels me with a strange sense of satisfaction.

"What's so funny, skin thief?" he mocks and drops my head down. His boot slams into my leg and I let out a shout as burning pain shoots up my body. Despite the pain, being called a skin thief has my body bristling more. I grit my teeth and glare up at him. This time, he is the one laughing.

"I bet you're imagining what you'd do to me with that twisted little power of yours, aren't you?" he asks. I don't answer. "If we didn't have you all drugged up, you'd have taken over my body by now wouldn't you?" He takes out a gun from his holster and holds it close to my face. I stare at the dull, cold metal. "Would you put this gun in my mouth?" he asks. "Do you have it in you to pull the trigger?"

I just smirk at him. He laughs again and stands, putting the gun away. Then, he gives me a final boot in the stomach before turning and leaving.

When the door shuts, I sit up slowly. A long groan leaves my mouth as I lean against the wall. Every part of my body stings and aches. I can feel blood spilling from my nose. It drips down my lips and chin. The room looks blurred thanks to my swollen and puffy eyes.

I gulp, still tasting the metallic blood. My lips pull into a slight smile as I think back to his question. If I were able to leave my body and take over his, then all of this would be over. I don't need a strand of someone's hair to take over their body. I only need that if I want to find someone specific. In close proximity, anyone can be my victim.

I imagine walking through the corridors as him. No one would suspect anything. I'd find Connor, free him and then kill any guard who got in my way. Then, when I was done with my interrogator's body, I would take his gun and put it in his mouth. A sadistic chuckle leaves my mouth as I think of how easy it would be. His conscious wouldn't even put up a fight. I would have complete and utter control.

The door opens once more. Each clang of the metallic bolts has my body jolting with fear, sending bolts burning adrenaline through my veins. The guard walks back in, holding in his hand mouldy bread. Despite the green fur growing over it, my stomach growls angrily. He crouches down beside me and holds it out.

"Your name," he says. I look up at him, smiling despite my throbbing lip, the idea of controlling his body still playing in my mind. We stay in silence for a few moments. Then, he pats me lightly on the head with the roll, stands and leaves. Only seconds after the door is locked, all the lights are turned off, plunging me back into complete darkness.

***

Time becomes nothing. I don't know how long I have been left alone in the darkness. My stomach clenches horribly from hunger and my throat burns from thirst. My skin is sticky with dried blood.

In this state, time seems to move slowly, quickly, and not at all. They barely let me sleep. The only time someone comes in is to inject me with more of that horrible burning substance which makes my body tingle with energy. When I do sleep, I am far too exhausted to even contemplate dream walking.