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Started August 11, 2022 by Deleted user

tune

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Jona looks a bit surprised, then snickers.

"You seem surprisingly calm about it." he replies, chaining Emily up using the manacles.

He goes over to a large cart and selects a sharp obsidian dagger.

"But that calmness won't last."

Their heart was pounding, loud enough that Emily was surprised he couldn't hear it. They didn't want to die. Not yet, not when they were so young. Squeezing her eyes shut, she didn't want to see what he was doing to her. She only hoped that he wouldn't sense it. Him, him, him. It seemed to be all about him. As if she was some madman in love with a murderer. The thought made her feel ill. God, as if he would ever fall in love with some crazy psycho like the man in front of her was.

Jona walks over to Emily.

"Now now, Emily. It'll only hurt for a little bit." it coos, tracing the detective's lips with the dagger.

"Open your eyes, dear. Watch."

A pause.

Emily could have cringed at how loud it sounded when she sucked in her breath at the cold metal tracing her lips. If he'd been brave enough, perhaps he would have laughed loudly, spat in his face, eyes wide open, and said something like, "I'll never bow down to a cold-blooded murderer like you." But alas, they were frozen with fear. Complying reluctantly, they forced their eyes open, trying their best to glare into his eyes. God, she hated that she'd gotten herself into this situation in the first place.

(Mm-hmmm, here we go.)

Jona notes the attempt at defiance and smiles.

"As a kindness, I shall leave your face untouched." it says.

It brings the knife down to the top of the detective's shirt and slices the fabric down, leaving her in her underclothes. It examines Emily for a moment before suddenly bringing the knife across the detective's stomach, shivering as it watched the blood well up, the shart intake of breath from Emily. It cuts again, parallel to the last cut, and pauses once more before making a series of diagonal cuts across her torso, then curved cuts. It was enjoying itself immensely, listening to Emily's gasping breaths. It was disappointing and exhilerating that she hadn't screamed yet.

It shifts its attention to Emily's arms and shoulders, cutting deep enough into the flesh to cause intense pain but do little damage to the muscle and tendons. It wanted her alive, functional, but in enough pain that she wouldn't get very far if she tried to escape. It smiles as it leaves deep wounds down her arms, evenly spaced and of equal length.

Emily grimaced, only barely managing to keep quiet. 'Kindness,' hah. She doubted he knew of such a thing, or even what it meant. A word sprang to the surface of her mind. Psychopath. Immediately attaching the word to him, their hatred for him only grew. A psychopath, that's what he was. Murderer. It suddenly occurred to her that if he didn't know what kindness meant, that would mean he'd had trauma. Trauma, he could have laughed at that thought. No severity of trauma or abuse could have excused the kind of torture this man was planning on putting him through.

But, she reminded herself. She was good at her job. .. perhaps.. if she showed him kindness.. perhaps he would cave? Emily grit their teeth again, hating that she was having to do this. "..listen.. I don't know why you're doing this.. but if you let me go.. I won't turn you in. I'll hunt someone else down instead. Maybe I'll make you a nice meal too, but only if you let me go," they managed in a quiet voice.

Jona tilts its head.

"Why would I accept that when this is far more interesting?" it replies, putting the knife away and grabbing a flexible, braided metal whip. It snapr it right next to the detective's face, enjoying her fear.

"Feel free to scream as loud as you'd like, Emily. Nobody will hear you besides me." it coos as it brings the whip down on Emily's back.

A scream. Not the 'ow-I'm-in-pain' kind of scream, but rather a 'god-dammit-this-hurts-i-want-to-murder-him' kind of scream. God how badly she wanted to murder this bastard. Screw catching him alive and putting him behind bars. She was almost willing to do anything, anything to get him to stop. He hissed in pain, blinking and glaring at him again, despite the pain. God it hurt so much. As if there were a red-hot iron being pressed against her back. Like a million needles were being stabbed into her back. She hated it, wanted it gone. They were almost afraid to try and look, unwilling to see the damage that the whip had caused.