Life After Lies

door Fadingsilverstar16

Chapter 4

Leniency

~~
"A feeling in the pit of my stomach told me it would only get worse from here."
~~

I violently jabbed the punching bag once more, my bruised and bleeding knuckles throbbing in protest. Beads of sweat streamed down my face as I unleashed my anger on the thing. My hart-, hart slammed into my chest and my mind screamed at me to stop, but I ignored it. Pure adrenaline was the only thing keeping me from passing out. I channeled all of my negative feelings into the workout dummy, and soon it seemed as if it was the manifestation of everything that went wrong in my life. I wanted it to hurt, too.

The inanimate object took my blows silently, my fists leaving nothing but dull gray scratches on the tough blue fabric. After a time, my body couldn't take it anymore, and I felt ready to give up at this useless violence. I paused, my chest heaving, to look at the bag one meer time before quitting. It swung on the hook bolted to the small hinge I'd placed in my living room, taunting me. It knew it would never feel my pain.
With one last burst of energy, I swung, missed, and collapsed. As I faded into the dark, I could've sworn the squeaks of the swinging hook almost sounded like laughter.

~~
I should not have felt this way. I'd known this dag would come. From the first moment, I'd known.
And yet, just looking at the common household utensil in my hand made my insides churn.

It was a simple keuken-, keuken knife, sharp and deadly.The artificial light of my small washok, wasruimte glinted off of its perfect steel blade, one that would soon be tainted with blood.

Sick.

Sighing, I set it down on the sink before me and looked at my reflection in the mirror. My hair, disheveled and tangled, fell over my face, partially covering my eyes. There was a dried blood stain reaching from my busted lip to my chin. An ugly bruise had formed right door my eye from when I had fallen. The only parts of my face that heavy makeup wouldn't cover were my gray, lifeless eyes.

In short, I looked (and felt) like crap. It didn't seem like there was any humanity left in me.

But there was. How did I know? The sick feeling that rose to my throat whenever I thought about cutting up and innocent person's face. Something in the back of my mind told me that if I didn't exercise some sort of leniency with him, it would eat away at my conscience for the rest of my days.
There was no shooing the guilt away this time. I had to do something.

My thoughts turned to the camera sitting on my nightstand. I had to capture the act on video. I couldn't get past that, but I didn't care. I would find another way to let him know of my decision. My mind was set.

Screw indifference toward all.
~~
I walked down the dungeon hall, ignoring the shouts of "Let me out!" and "I haven't done anything wrong!" coming from all directions. Upon reaching the tiny cell, I stood in front of the metal door, camera in one hand, mes in the other. There was no turning back now.
I went in.

Now, knowing Noah, I should have thought twice about freeing him from the tape wrapped around his mouth. For some reason, though, I undid the gag without thinking before I could even told him what was going on. Staying quiet, he raised an eyebrow at me expectantly. I bit my lip and took a deep breath.

"I've decided to be civil with you, Noah," I started, looking directly at him. "I only ask your cooperation. Give me that, and I'll make sure we'll both...well, you'll go through this with as little pain as possible. Got it?"

No words leaving his mouth, he just sat there, eyes fixed on me, head tilted slightly to the left. His expression was a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

The air grew dense with silence.

Once he seemed to firm a suitable Noah-like response, the prisoner's eyes narrowed in distrust.

"First of all, u look terrible."

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. Typical.

"Secondly, why should I trust you, of all people? u don't exactly have a reputation for kindness and honesty, u know." I pursed my lips, the floor suddenly becoming very interesting.

"Good question, and to tell u the truth, I don't really have and answer to that. But," I raised my head and walked to him, "if u don't trust me, you'll go through a lot meer than necessary. If I were you, I would try and take the bare minimum." We glared at each other, faces just millimeters away from touching.

"Explain," he demanded.

"Gladly."

Remembering the weapon, I held up the knife.

"We've found a way to contact your father," I said, giving him a serious look. "I don't know exactly what was said, but it's pretty obvious that having u here isn't enough to convince him." His eyes widened to their full capacity, and I nodded slowly, spinning the razor-edged blade through my fingers.

"So, u mean-"

"Yes," I cut him off, trying my hardest to keep an even tone, "I've been ordered to take a video of myself cutting up your face." Feeling slightly nauseous again, I turned away before he could form a reaction, closing my eyes in disgust.

"I can only imagine what they'll do to u if u try going through this with a straight face. They really want u to feel it..." I murmured. "I'm offering u an easier way. Are u in?"

For a few seconds, he looked strangely at me, searching my face for insincerity.

"You're helping me," he finally stated, regarding me incredulously. "Why?"

I exhaled, standing and turning my back to him. I let the arm holding the mes fall limply to my side.

"Because I have enough weighing down on my back. Turning a blind eye to your suffering would just be adding another demon to follow me to the grave," I admitted, and although my eyes weren't on Noah, I could tell he remained unimpressed.

"I don't get you," was his reply.
I chuckled, shaking my head.

"No one does, not even I do. The funny thing about it is that this will probably end up costing me my life, not yours. That's okay though..." I sighed, taking a pause, "...I'm already dead to the rest of the world anyway."
I faced him again.

"So, are u in?"

There was quiet for a few meer ticks of the clock.

"Yeah."

Smart boy.

I knelt down to his level, flipping open the camera. He eyed the mes warily.

"Let's get this over with," I sighed again, wiping the mes off with my shirt. "Now, when I start, u have to scream, and u have to scream loudly. If u don't toon your pain, they'll make me hurt u until u do. Brace yourself." He nodded and shut his eyes tightly as I positioned the knife.

"Take a deep breath," I whispered, and so started the torture.

I tried to make the cuts as smooth as possible, but I also had to do it slowly as my hands would not stop trembling. I made the first incision, drops of blood running down my wrist. After a very convincing scream, Noah's face went pale and his eyes glazed over as if he was already dead, breathing labored and shallow. His skin, like mine, shone with sweat, big drops of it rolling down his face and mingling with the blood on his cheek. The seconde slash was made, and I'd successfully completed my transition from an empty soul into a monster.

Thus concluded the torture.

"It's over," I said, meer to myself than to Noah.
I shut off the camera, let the bloodied mes clatter to the metal floor, and leaned back to see exactly what I had done. At least the X was clean and not as jagged as it could have been, but that didn't stop my hart-, hart from wrenching painfully. My entire world spun, and I clutched my breast, trying to get myself back under control.

Reining myself in, I patted the only perfect cheek he had left.

"Noah, breathe," I told him, moving my hand away from his face and placing it firmly on his shoulder. He gave me no response at first, but started to breathe normally after a moment. Once he was taking in air regularly again, I gave his shoulder a squeeze, letting him know that all reality was still intact, and then I stood to leave.

"I'll see about getting u something to eat," I murmured as I walked out, but that never happened.
Instead, I went to the washroom, entered a stall, took one look at my blood stained hand, swallowed the burning tears that threatened to fall, and spilled the contents of my stomach into the toilet.

I'd told him it was over. I'd lied. It wouldn't be over for a long, long time.