Write One Page Per Day – 268/365 – September 25, 2018

Carving & Conversation

The ropes cut into my wrists, making the circulation all but stop. I couldn’t help but look up and marvel at the beautiful shade of blue my fingers were turning. The sound of scraping metal echoed through the room as I watched Grace hone the knife.

“You know, Henry, there have been some men in my life that I’ve tortured like this,” she said without turning around, “you’re the first that hasn’t begged for his life.”

“Grace, you and I both know that it wouldn’t change your mind. I’m just marveling at your level of skill. Bravo.” I said struggling slightly to bring my hands together. “I’d clap, but you tied my arms perfectly.”

“Robert was right,” she said turning to face me, “you are an odd person.”

“You have no idea,” I replied, winking at her, “this is kind of my thing. Did Robert tell you anything else?”

“He told me that you’re the man that killed my husband,” she half-whispered. “You’re the reason that life went dark on me. You’re the reason that everything fell apart…”

I watched as she walked toward me, all the grace that her name embodied. The knife in her hand glinting in the soft light, the way the suit she wore hugged her in all the right places, and the fire behind her sad eyes, not entirely unlike Gwen when she was angry. I couldn’t help but find her attractive at that moment.

She gently lowered the knife to the skin on my ribs and cut shallow, following the path my bone made. The pain screamed from my side as my eyes rolled in the back of my head in ecstasy.

“There are so many things I’ve wanted to do to you,” Grace said as she watched the blood run to my hip. “So many things I had planned, and now I’m not sure you’ll survive enough of them to make it down the list.”

“Was one of them to electrocute me?” I asked, “because I’m totally into that.”

The knife moved up an inch and traced another line.

“The only downside of this entire thing is that you only have one story to go from,” I said, “You’ve only heard his point of view. You never asked mine.”

“What difference would it make?”

“Well, for starters, we’d be doing this for different reasons. I’d still be here, and you’d still be there, but at the end of it all we would both walk out of here fully satisfied.” I replied.

“I don’t know about that,” she said gliding the knife an inch higher once more. Her free hand traced the other set of ribs. “I’m not sure you’ll survive what I’m going to do to you.”

“I think you’d be surprised what I can survive,” I winked.

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