"You're Going out With a Bang, Toots."
05.
He was right; but I didn't give him the satisfaction of knowing what he was doing to me hurt. He threw punch after punch and kick after kick to various areas of my body, but I clenched my teeth and took it as blood spurted from my nose and lips. His lips curled into a smirk and he stared at me. "Am I going to have to resort to..." He licked his lips noisily. "Harsher methods?" I stared at him through my blonde bangs. He glared at me when I didn't reply, and went over to the table he had at the front of the room. His eyes scanned the assortment of knives, guns, tasers, and other objects, which included a steaming hot curling iron, several syringes, a brick, and a tube of crazy glue.
When he had tied me to the chair with barbed wire, he explained that for every day Batman didn't come to him, he'd hurt me even more. Or maybe, he'd just kill me for the fun of it. When he came at me with the curling iron, I gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut. "Open your eyes." He commanded, and I looked up at him as he pressed the hot curling iron to my arm. I could take the burns; to a certain extent. When he had covered all of my arm with inflamed red marks, he lifted it to my face.
"Since you aren't going to talk; who says you need your lips?" I fought to turn my head away from him, but he caught my chin in his gloved hand and made me face him as he lowered the curling iron onto my lips, making me cry out in pain. I let the tears slip freely down my face, and I tried desperately not to scream out as he burnt my lips again. He delivered a punch to my jaw, and pick up a long knife from the table. My knife.
"Talk." He commanded, and when I didn't, he sliced my exposed thigh. He was becoming impatient, and the pain in me was becoming more drastic. I groaned slightly when he carved a J into my arm, and clenched my teeth together again, ready to take anything he had to dish out.
"You're a fucking slut. You don't deserve to live, and you sure as fuck don't deserve to be in my presence right now." My lips ached, and the rest of my body felt like it was on fire. I had been cut, show, my lips had been burnt, I had been punched, and I sill had no idea why he would seek revenge in such a way. Why couldn't he have killed me and let me be? He got the tube of crazy glue from the table and came towards me with it, unscrewing the cap and throwing it on the floor.
He held tightly onto my jaw like he had when he was burning my lips, and brought the tip of the tube to my burnt lips. He squeezed the glue onto my lips and forced them together. I screamed into my mouth, unable to open it. He reached to the back of the chair and slowly undid the barbed wire from around me. He picked me up by under my armpits and threw me into a wall closest to the table. I stared at him, tears leaking out of my blackened eyes. He took one last look at me before he shut the lights in the room, and walked out of it, closing and locking the many bolts on the door.
It was either take my own life, or go through with the torture.
When he had tied me to the chair with barbed wire, he explained that for every day Batman didn't come to him, he'd hurt me even more. Or maybe, he'd just kill me for the fun of it. When he came at me with the curling iron, I gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut. "Open your eyes." He commanded, and I looked up at him as he pressed the hot curling iron to my arm. I could take the burns; to a certain extent. When he had covered all of my arm with inflamed red marks, he lifted it to my face.
"Since you aren't going to talk; who says you need your lips?" I fought to turn my head away from him, but he caught my chin in his gloved hand and made me face him as he lowered the curling iron onto my lips, making me cry out in pain. I let the tears slip freely down my face, and I tried desperately not to scream out as he burnt my lips again. He delivered a punch to my jaw, and pick up a long knife from the table. My knife.
"Talk." He commanded, and when I didn't, he sliced my exposed thigh. He was becoming impatient, and the pain in me was becoming more drastic. I groaned slightly when he carved a J into my arm, and clenched my teeth together again, ready to take anything he had to dish out.
"You're a fucking slut. You don't deserve to live, and you sure as fuck don't deserve to be in my presence right now." My lips ached, and the rest of my body felt like it was on fire. I had been cut, show, my lips had been burnt, I had been punched, and I sill had no idea why he would seek revenge in such a way. Why couldn't he have killed me and let me be? He got the tube of crazy glue from the table and came towards me with it, unscrewing the cap and throwing it on the floor.
He held tightly onto my jaw like he had when he was burning my lips, and brought the tip of the tube to my burnt lips. He squeezed the glue onto my lips and forced them together. I screamed into my mouth, unable to open it. He reached to the back of the chair and slowly undid the barbed wire from around me. He picked me up by under my armpits and threw me into a wall closest to the table. I stared at him, tears leaking out of my blackened eyes. He took one last look at me before he shut the lights in the room, and walked out of it, closing and locking the many bolts on the door.
It was either take my own life, or go through with the torture.
♠ ♠ ♠
5 comments for the update I already have written.