My Sadist King

"What do you want me to do?"

He sucked onto his cigarette and let out another smoky breath. "I want you to sit there and watch..."

"What if I don't--"

"You'll do as I say," he interrupted. His glare into my eyes gripped me like a noose and I wouldn't dare try to free myself. I lowered myself to the concrete floor, gripping my knees to my chest, and hid my face with my hair.

The man's body was completely lifeless, face down on the ground--bruises and cuts all over the skin. A pool of blood surrounded him, but it wasn't enough blood to satisfy my king. My king liked consolidating things so they would fit in the freezer. He loved seeing the life float away from frightened strangers' eyes before he sliced another piece of their flesh off.

"No, no, no," my king said, squatting beside me and pushing my hair out of my face. The hot blood on his hand spread along my forehead and soaked into my hair. He smirked as I whimpered in fear and shoved his lips to mine, the vile taste of tobacco entering my mouth. "I want you to have a good view of it, okay?" he said, standing up and squeezing the handle of the axe in his hand.

Above all, my king loved to make me watch.