Chapter 11
***
"Eat slowly.''
He said as Sasha picked up the pace of chewing and turning the meat.
Come to think of it, she had seen him before, somewhere. Not in the torture chamber, but somewhere else.
"Kollok."
She gagged. Maybe she had eaten too fast.
"Kolok, Kolok."
No. No, that wasn't it. Sasha covered her mouth and coughed, then looked up at him, blue and fed up.
"Kolok! Kolok! Kolok! Kolok!"
The coughing became paroxysmal. The food! The man let out a rumbling laugh. Her esophagus burned, and her breathing slowly narrowed.
"Kolok! Kolok! Kolok! Kolok!"
"Hahaha!"
The man laughed, holding his stomach. Sasha tried to pick up the table, slipped, and fell to the floor. With a thud, the chair went over with it. The man continued to laugh. White goo oozed out of Sasha's mouth. With a gurgle, she scratched the floor in pain. The man laughed louder.
"Hahaha! Idiot!"
Ah. She knew. She remembered this man. She saw him when she first arrived in Nerea. In the newspaper at the boarding house.
John von Willendorf. How could she have forgotten him? She shouldn't have crossed the border after all. Espionage was not for her. He was right. Sasha Laurent. You're an idiot.
"Sasha."
He called her affectionately. You fucking asshole. Sasha seethed, and then blacked out again, again, again.
She opened her eyes again. As soon as she opened her eyes and saw the familiar ceiling, rage surged through her. She gritted her teeth and scrambled to her feet. The man was sitting in the same chair he'd been in the last time, looking exactly the same. He smirked.
"You have a very regular wake-up time."
Sasha threw a pillow at him. He sat back in his chair and burst out laughing. The more he laughed, the angrier Sasha became.
"You crazy son of a bitch!"
As Sasha cursed, he gave a short whistle. With a smug look on his face. As if he didn't know she would say such things. That infuriated Sasha even more, so she threw another pillow at him, lunged at him, and slapped him across the cheek. He laughed again as soon as the stroke returned with a snap. How dare you laugh! How dare you laugh!
Sasha dug into the waistband of his uniform and pulled out a pistol, neatly tucked into a leather holster, and pointed it at him.
John raised his hands in surrender. His face was still full of amusement and sarcasm.
"You're going to shoot me?"
"Yes. I'm going to shoot you. You think I can't?"
"Okay. Pull the trigger."
I'm really going to kill you. I'm going to kill you and then I'm going to die! Sasha gritted her teeth and squeezed the trigger. Click, click, click!
He laughed out loud.
"Did you check to see if there was a bullet?"
"Did you check to see if it was unlocked?"
Sasha looked at the gun, clumsily held in two bandaged hands. The rattling hands seemed to struggle just to hold it and pull the trigger. The sensation in her hands was numb throughout. Bullets? A lock? Sasha looked at the gun and noticed the jagged clasp sticking out of the end. Was that a lock?
Before she could do anything, her body collapsed onto the bed. The cold muzzle of the gun pressed her forehead into the sheets. He released the lock.
"Tell me it's wrong."
"Plead with me to spare your life. Tell me you'll do anything I ask and I'll let you live."
"What's more important to you, a modicum of pride or your life, Miss Sasha Laurent?"
He smirked and asked. Yes, to this man, it was a game. She was a toy. A toy to do whatever he wanted. That's why he was enjoying this situation.
"You locked me in here, didn't you?"
"That's not the answer I want, Sasha."
"You have fun playing with me?"
He shrugged.
"What, a little?"
Sasha stretched her arms out on the bed and looked straight at him. She stretched wider, like she was lying on a green hill facing the sky. John stared into Sasha's emerald eyes for a long, long time.
"You have beautiful eyes."
What an insult. The most insulting thing she'd ever heard. Humans like him were pretentious enough to make her skin crawl.
"Kill me. That's the only thing I wish for."
"I like that."
John squeezed the trigger. Sasha squeezed her eyes shut. An iron clang.
A hollow crack. Hahaha. He laughed again. He cupped Sasha's cheek and gripped her chin absentmindedly. There was a cruel gleam in his eyes.
"I forgot to change the magazines."
"Sasha."
He spat out her name without meaning to. The sound rolled around in his mouth as if it were sweet.
"Sasha Laurent. You've changed color."
Even though she held it together, her lips quivered. She knew she was white with fear. She wasn't afraid of dying. She was afraid of the pain of the bullet going through her bones, even if it was only for a moment. You'd think you'd get used to it, hardened to it, but you don't. It hurts more the more it's carved into you.
John spoke softly, in contrast to the crushing force of his voice.
"The fools think you're a gentle, meek young lady, don't they, when in fact you're a tomboy, fierce and stubborn as a foal."
Not everyone thought so, and it was hard for an orphan to be so meek and mild-mannered, let alone a woman, to survive so long, even with the help of luck. The same went for surviving the grueling ward life. It was hard to survive in it unless you were as poisonous as the Akbari. There was a spark in her, too. Even if it wasn't visible, even if she didn't recognize it herself. Surely it was there. And now it was burning.
"Tomorrow I'll put in a pretty doll for you to play with."
"I don't need it."
"You will. You're lonely."
"Your pretty eyes are sad."
"Kill ke! Kill me!"
"Sasha. I would never, ever kill you, even if you did."
John released her chin and slid off the bed, smoothing the hem of his uniform.
"Get up, you need to eat."
John grabbed her hand and forced her to her feet.
"I don't want to."
"You must be hungry."
"You put poison in the food, apparently."
"Hmm."
He made a neither-this-nor-that sound in response, then continued.
"Whether it's a bullet in your head or poisoned food in your stomach, it's what it is, so why don't you just eat it?"
"No, I won't entertain you again."
"Good. You've got spunk."
Why was he so happy? Why was he having so much fun? What was so fun and happy about this? The angrier she got, the more evil she was, the brighter his face became.
Sasha rose to her feet and swung her foot toward his sharp point, but John caught it lightly and swung it back. Sasha spun half a turn and stretched out on the bed.
"It's weak, stupid, easy to counterattack, and worst of all, it's not funny, Sasha."
"Good, because I don't want to amuse you."
"That's funny."
“You asshole!”
"Get up. The soup's getting cold."
"No."
Sasha shook off his grip on her ankle and crawled back onto the bed.
"I won't eat it. I won't eat that dirty, mushy food."
"Marie will be sad when she hears about it. She always serves first-class food."
It didn’t matter. Whether it was a first-class dish or a noodle soup, if it contained poison, it was not worth more than garbage. Above all, she was beyond angry with him and with herself, to the point of hatred and inability to live. She could kill right now. Or maybe she already had.
"You are beyond redemption."
John glanced at his wristwatch and grabbed her leg, yanking her away.
"No!"
She struggled against the sheets. Her grip on the mattress slipped, and she was trapped in his grasp, slick as a sheet.
"Hold still, and I'll treat you like a princess."
Sasha spun around and slapped him across the cheek with the back of her hand. Instead of a thud, there was a dull thud.
He spat. He wiped the edge of his gaping mouth with his tongue and laughed.
"That one hurt a little, Sasha."
He leaned down and hoisted Sasha over his shoulder.
"Ouch!"
"We had a graceful way with each other, and you're the one who gave it up."
Sasha flailed and swung her fists, punching him in the back, in the hips, in the legs, bashing his head in, flailing her legs. It was so wild that even John's body, which held her tightly, shook in all directions with her. His white brow creased. A grunt escaped him.
"You're going to get yourself in trouble."
"Let go! Let go!"
"Sasha!"
"Let go!"
The sound of sharp friction echoed through the large room. Her buttocks burned like it was on fire.
"Ow!"
Sasha screamed in pain.
"How could a wildcat like you work in a nursing ward, let alone with nuns?"
"No! I'm not like this! I'm gentle! I'm meek! I've never hit anyone in my life! I like to take care of people, I like to serve! I've never, not once in my life, wanted to kill someone, not once, not once.......But I'm going to kill you."
***
To donate for extra chapters for my series or to tip me visit my personal kofi page
Write a comment