War Dog

Chapter 52

My head throbbed painfully as I slowly regained conciousness. My eyes felt thick and heavy as I tried to open them. I tried to bring my hands up to scrub at my eyes only to find them mostly unresponsive. I try harder only to slowly realise my hands are tied to something behind my back. 

"Ah. It's awake. Finally." A thick Spanish accent fills the room speaking English. I don't respond except to try and tug on my arms again. 

"No, no pet, you are well and truly tied to your chair." The voice croons making me flinch at the sound. "You are definitely intriguing to say the least. Shaista's last report mentioned you. Said she was trying to find a buyer for you and your handler. Speaking of, pet. Where is he?"

I open my eyes finally to see the unfortunate visage of Gareth standing about six feet away from me. From what I can figure out, the room is sterile. Blank. Gareth is standing casually, with his hands in his suit pant pockets. My eyes manage to focus as adrenaline begins to spike through me realising the precarious situation I'm in. I swallow hard. "Where is who?" I asked, playing dumb trying to buy time. 

"Tsk tsk pet. Not a good answer that one." He pulled out a knife and ran it across my jaw drawing a trickle of blood. I hissed at the sting of the knife splitting my skin open. Fear began to trickle through me. The scent of the man in front of me told me he was unhinged and enjoying every moment of this, and something told me things were going to get worse. I closed my eyes again, steeling myself and trying to steady my nerves. "Uh Uh, pet. Open your eyes. You don't get to hide from this. Where is your handler?" He asked again. When I didn't immediately open my eyes or answer him, I relaxed expecting the backhand across my jaw. My head snapped to the side with the force of the blow. I still didn't open my eyes immediately. I opened them when I was ready and straightened myself back up as much as I could while tied up. 

I glare at Gareth and don't say anything. Fear however is racketing through me. I can feel my heart pumping frantically trying to keep up with the adrenaline rush. Images flashed through my minds eye. Dead cold eyes staring at me. The smell of old blood, rotting bodies and faecal matter made the bile rise up my throat. I freeze, terror turning my blood cold. 

"One more time. Where is your handler?" Gareth asked coolly. He flipped his knife in his hand. He was trying to be intimidating. His knife skills weren't working. But the reminder of the dead bodies in his basement definitely did the trick. The memory of the smell making its way past my mask was compounded by being so close to him I could smell the remnants on his clothes. He smelled like rotting flesh. Just a hint beneath the musky overtones of his cologne.

"Fine." He said with a note of finality, a smile on his face. Not like I could have spoken anyway, with fear wiring my mouth shut. He approached me with his knife, and trailed the blade down my sternum teasingly with the knife edge facing up. When he got to the point just below my sternum, he jerked the knife back up again, splitting open my skin from sternum to collarbones.

I gasped in pain as the knife split me open, the blood slow to spill, clinging to the edges of my skin as if hesitant to stain my fur red with my own blood. As the first trickle of blood slipped down my skin, I felt with it another surge of adrenaline and power run through my body. Pain. So much pain. I think I've dislocated my shoulders from jerking so hard against my restraints. I hear in the distance the snapping of plastic. In the back of my mind I acknowledge I can hear screaming. It sounds so pained. 

I can feel pain in my jaw, and I distantly wonder if Gareth has slapped me again. I collapse to the ground on all fours heaving for air. I feel like my entire body is being split open from the inside out. I feel a rush of fluid. It's warm, and sticky, covering me head to toe. Maybe Gareth has decided to cut me open some more. I don't know, all I can do is feel the pain my body is enduring. I become dimly aware that the screaming has turned to whimpering, and I vaguely wonder if I'm making the sounds. I hear the door slam open and then everything goes black.