I Will Torment You Until You Beg Me To Kill You-1

WARNING- The following chapter contains gruesome details of slow torture which might be disturbing for some readers. You can skip this chapter if you want. You will get the summary of the event of this chapter in the next chapter.

Michael’s point of view-

I open my eyes, my head throbbing because of the blow on the back of my head. Wanting to check how bad it was, I tried to extend my hand but realized my movements were restrained, as I was tied up to a chair. Wait, how did I end up here, tied and all? Wasn’t I supposed to be in a hospital? I tried to break free but instead heard a mocking, cynical laughter.

“Who is there?” I ask, trying to act that I wasn’t afraid.

But instead of an answer, I hear the person clapping their hands in a slow, rhythmic manner as the footsteps come closer in my direction, making my heart thump loudly in my chest. The person who I expected to look scary, but he looked so normally human. His eyes were of two different colors, one scarlet red while the other one ocean blue.

“Heterochromia.” He answers the buzzing question in my mind, as he looks at me up and down as a slow, sinister smile forms on his face. He pushes his black raven hair black as he pulls a chair right in front of me and sits down.

He was playing with a knife in his hand as he whistled a very slightly familiar tune and as I properly gaze at his face now, he seems oddly familiar. Where the fuck have I seen him before?

“Let me guess, you’re brainstorming about where you might have seen me before.” He guesses, as he tilts his head and gives a devilish smile. He then puts the knife on my throat as my heart races at the touch of the cold pointy edge of the knife.

“I have been everywhere and I have watched you looking and flirting with my Thea. And you really crossed the line, when you tried to drug her and lay your filthy hands on her.” He says, as he gets up and walks behind me. He then loosens the rope and brings one of my hand out tying it to the armrest of the chair as he hums that stupid, creepy lullaby tune again.

“Now! Which finger first?” He asks, as he taps on each one as if he was selecting a candy to eat. He stops at my middle finger as I try to move my hand away but in vain as he looks at me with a huge grin and then cuts off my finger in one strike as I let out a scream of pain as I feel his eyes watching me.

“I will tell you about my childhood a little so we both can entertain each other. Nostalgia at times like this, works as a cherry on top of a cake. Just like most people, I had two parents but aah, I was their biggest mistake and they never forgot to remind me about that. And having different eye-colors made them repulse me even more. They were always bickering and blaming each other for why I was the way I was. Then I saw my father hit my mom so hard that her head banged against the kitchen sink and she died right in front of me. Then the asshole that my father killed would hit me so one night I sneaked into his room and added the rat poison in his beer bottle.” He tells me as he examines my finger turning and twisting it in his hand. As I feel like throwing up, dizziness succumbs into my vision as I let my eyes close.