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Chapter Two

            Pain.  That's what I have to greet me when I wake.  Everything hurts, nothing is spared.  Even blinking in the pitch dark is painful.  Every muscle and joint is on fire.  In the darkness I hear rustling.  I hear muffled words and gasps.  I hear frantic breathing and, after a moment, I hear him.

            He's come to torment me yet again.  It is my turn now.  I'm his favorite, he's said it before.  I was the one with the temper, so he saves the best torture methods for me.  I hate this man.

            His laugh echoes through the air.  A muffled scream sounds with it.  I can hear a high pitched voice screaming.  There's more rustling.  Eventually, the clear screaming voice becomes muffled as well.

            "Number Two," he says happily as if I'm a guest in his home coming over for some fancy dinner party.  Which reminds me, when was the last time I ate?

            Melinda.  I remind myself.  I won't forget my name.  I couldn't.  It's the only thing keeping me sane.

            "I heard what you did to my guard out there,” he says happily.  "Shame though, his wife and child will miss him."

            My heart aches at the words.  He wasn't supposed to die, it was supposed to be the other man.  Now I had made a woman into a widow and a child fatherless.  I was a monster.  I should be the one that died.  I can't begin to count the number of times I had attempted to take my own life.  I would lie awake wishing that the next torture method the boss used would be the one that killed me.  But alas, he was far too cautious for that.

            "The other guard, he had just gotten out of prison for rape,” he says in the same sickening sweet tone I've always heard him use.  "Too bad it wasn't him, right?"  He laughs out.  "Luckily my dear, I'm giving you a second chance to make the right decision."

            Suddenly, the lights flick on.  I could see the familiar concrete walls and floor that was stained with blood, vomit, and who knows what other bodily fluids.  The boss stood in the middle of the floor, smirking.  He was just as imposing as I remembered.  His tall frame towered over mine, his blue eyes glowed with excitement as he stared down at me.  Out of the corner of my eye I can see an older woman with her hands tied behind her back.  Two guards stand behind her with guns aimed at her head.  Her short blonde hair is sticking out in odd places, her eyes are red and water as she locks her gaze on mine and attempts to speak.  The gag in her mouth stops me from understanding her words but I can see the panic in her eyes.  Her eyes move past me and the boss.  I turn my head to see a small boy, about four or five, tied in the same fashion with two guards behind him, holding guns to his head as well.  One of the guards behind the boy smirks and makes the gun click like he's cocking it.  The woman to my right wails against her gag.  Tears streak her face as she pulls at her restraints.

            "You know the guard you killed?"  The boss asked.  I nod despite the fact that he doesn't like it when I don't speak to him.  "Well," he continues, excusing my rudeness.  "This is his wife," he says gesturing towards her and then to the boy, "and this is his son."  He smiles at me without showing his teeth.  "As you can see they are in a bit of a predicament.  Only one of them can live."  He moved from in front of me to walk over to where the woman is sitting.  He uses the back of his hand to brush her face gently.  She makes a sound of displeasure and moves away.  The boss retaliates by striking her so hard her head is thrown to the side.  The boy starts to cry louder at the sight of his mother being hit.  "Mommy here, doesn't want her son to die.  Do you?"  He asks with a smirk.  The woman recovers from the slap, just to receive another by the same man.  "Do you?"  He yells then smiles.  The woman begins to sob louder.  He smiles and slides her gag down to around her neck, giving her an opportunity to speak.

            "Please,” she begs me in a whisper.  "Kill me, don't hurt my son, not my baby."

            I watch as she bargains for her son’s life.  Her eyes produce an endless flow of tears and the flesh on her skin turns bright red before it wells up.  I squirm in my seat upon hearing the desperation in her voice.  She doesn't know that there is no hope for either of them.  They've seen the place, they've seen the boss, so neither will be walking out of here.  He'll dispose of their bodies and make it appear as if they have simply disappeared.

            I can tell the boss has grown bored of her pleading.  He covers her mouth and waltzes over to the boy.

            "This little lad doesn't want mommy dead, now does he?"  The boss asks as he removes the little boy's gag.

            "Mommy?"  The boy asks, his voice scared and innocent, my heart drops at the sound.  "Mommy, I want to go home," he informs her.

            I look over to the mother who has leaned so that her head is against her knees.  I can see her body heaving with tears and sorrow.  She looks so completely broken.

            "Choose number two,” the boss commands me.  "Who will die?"

            "The woman," I say without missing a beat.  I don't want to say it, but know it doesn't matter.  The mother straightens up in her chair accepting the decision.

            "Kill her,” the boss says cheerily.  It takes me a moment to realize that he was speaking to me.

            My eyes grow wide and flash between the boss and the woman.

            "What?"  I ask.  "That wasn't part of it," I argue.

            His eyes grow sharp, and glow with amusement.  I can't look away.  Behind me, I feel two guards untie my hands and stand me up.  My legs shake under the intensity of his stare.

            I don't want to do this.  I don’t want to kill her.

            The guards lead me over to where the woman is sitting.  Up close, I can see the cut on her lip and the bruising around her eyes and cheek bones.  Her eyes have now become empty.  They show no emotion as the guard on my right removes my glove and grips on tighter to the covered part of my forearm where he knows my fingers can't reach him.

            I don't want to be a murderer.  I don’t want to be responsible for her death.

            "Wait,” the boss calls out.

            Everyone turns their attention to him.  His smirk grows into a full blown smile as his eyes glow even brighter.  A loud shot rings out and bounces off the wall.  I watch in frozen horror as the boy that once sat in the chair slumps forward.  His blood drips onto the concrete.  The mother screams against her gag and I feel my hand be yanked forward by the guard.  I scream and pull back in protest but nonetheless, that awful twinkling sound fills the air.  I turn my head just in time to see the woman who was once in the chair turn into ash and disappear before my very eyes.

            Muffled cries find their way from my chest to my lips.  The boss’s laughter fills the air along with the pitiful sound of a sole clap echoing off the walls.

            "Good show!"  The boss proclaims as he continues to laugh.  "Take her back, will you?"  He asks the guard.

            I walk without a fight as the twinkling sound replays in my mind.  I follow the guards numbly as they lead me through the twisted hallways and back to my cell.  I change back into my rags and give them the suit.  They leave without bothering me.  My body collapses on the mattress.  I close my eyes only to be met with the images of the guard, of the woman, of the boy.  I can hear their screams and that awful twinkling.  Tears streak down my face and sobs bubble up from my throat.  I am a murderer.  I am a freak.  I am a monster.

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