Short Story

Day 80 – Stale Mate – Short Story

“So, which finger should I take off first?” he asks as he runs the blade across her broken, bloody hand, she looks up at him with spite in her eyes and spits a wad of saliva and blood into his face.

“Fuck you!” She screams, he laughs as he wipes it away with his hand.

“Come now Sonia, we’ve already been there, and if I remember rightly, you quite enjoyed it, I think you actually said I was the best you had.”

“That’s before I realised you were a piece of shit, and all girls lie, it keeps you boys happy, had I known you were as fucked up in the head as you are I would have told you the truth, that you’ve got a tiny dick and you have no idea how to turn on a woman,” she says as she tries to twist her way out of the bindings that hold her to the chair, but she has no success and in the end screams at him like a uncontrollable child, and all he does is laugh.

“Please, don’t hurt yourself, that is my domain,” he says as he drives a solid right hook across her face and she slips to the side, unconscious. He spins around, and looks towards the ceiling and nods his head in understanding, as if someone has just spoken to him. “It will be done, she will not escape, she will be one with you soon.” He turns back to her and smiles as he brushes the hair from her face and licks the blood from her cheek, her eyes shoot open and she drives a devastating head-butt to his face, smashing open his nose, and he tumbles backwards, crashing to the floor. She frantically wriggles and twists and turns, thumping the chair into the ground, using all her weight, until finally, one of the legs shatter away and she goes crashing to the floor on her side, still bound to the chair. She lies there for a few moments, dazed, before she realises that he’s begun to stir, and she struggles to get to her feet, but the chair restricts most of her movement, but finally, she manages to get to her knees, as he, slowly pulls himself to his feet. She digs deep within herself, for energy she does not have, and forcers herself up, letting out a groan of pain and then like a bull, charges at him, the two crash into each other and the chair shatters into pieces as she crashes into the floor, and she frantically get to her feet.

“You fucking bitch!” he screams as he grips the blade tightly and uses the wall to pull himself up. “You fucking little self-absorbed bitch, you think you’re going to stop me? You think you’re going to escape his clutches?” he yells. She strikes him across the head with one of the broken legs of the chair and he crashes back into the wall, she strikes him again, and again, and again until his head is a bloody, mushy, grotesque version of what it was, and she spits on him.

“Fucking dirt bag, who’s the bitch now?”

Suddenly, from behind her, the sound of someone clapping their hands in celebration begins, she spins around to face three men, all dressed in suits, she throws the leg of the chair at the middle ones feet. He looks down, as some blood flicks onto his shoes, and he looks back up at her.

“Don’t blame me, you locked me in here with the piece of shit,” she says calmly.

“Miss Avadon, you were told to engage with the suspect, not allow yourself to become a prisoner of his, this is most disappointing.”

“Well, disappoint this,” she says as she drives a hard right to the man’s head, knocking him to the ground, the other two pull the revolvers and quickly train them on her.

“Don’t” he yells as she rubs his jaw. “She is allowed that one,” he says as he gets to his feet and straightens his tie. “The next time you try something like that…” in a flash she is on him, quickly driving well placed kicks to the other two and finishing up with a blade at his neck.

“The next time I try something like that, you will not be so luck,” she says as she shoves him away and drops the blade as she walks out of the room and down the corridor, he straightens his tie again and smiles.

“She’s ready.”



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