Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
He dashed to Sandro in panic, but despite all the red on Sandro’s hands, the only wound Kevin could spot was a cut on his forearm.
“What happened?” Kevin asked, already overwhelmed and fighting a sob. “You want to lay down?” he offered him the pillow but Sandro pushed it away and squeezed Kevin’s wrist.
“No. You need to listen to me carefully. I will fall asleep very soon. It could be half a day before I awake again, and I need your help, Kevin.” He pointed to the room opposite, and while the door was partially shut, the glimpse of blood staining white tiles of the floor had him turning into an icicle.
Kevin choked on a deep inhale. “What’s in there?”
Sandro entwined their fingers despite the stickiness of blood. “I never intended for you to see any of this,” he said while his eyelids drooped, as if he struggled to stay awake. “I will pay you double for your silence, and you will never have to see me again.”
A moan from inside the room made Kevin gasp in panic. “What are you talking about, Daddy?”
“Roberto’s in there. He’s almost dead, but he injected me with a tranquilizer. Even in the state he’s in, he could still crawl over here and kill me once I’m asleep. I need you to take that pillow, Kevin…” His eyes closed and he rolled his head from side to side. “Put it over his face… I will pay. You will be safe…”
Red-stained fingers grabbed the side of the door at the bottom and pulled it open.
Roberto stared at Kevin with bloodshot eyes, but it was the room behind him that made Kevin’s skin crawl.
The interior would have looked like a doctor’s office without all the blood on white tiles, but the sharp implements mounted on the walls like art made it feel claustrophobic, as if the room might close in on the person who was forced to sit in the middle in what resembled an old-timey dentistry chair.
Kevin’s gaze dashed between Roberto’s ashen face and the knives, the saw, the needles and screwdrivers meant for torture. Tears fell from Kevin’s eyes, and he shook uncontrollably when Roberto crawled his way in slow motion, like a zombie who didn’t care that half its guts dragged over the floor. Every inch he passed got stained with the blood from his organs.
Kevin turned away from the sight, but the stench still hit him with all of its ferocity, and he threw up to the side, away from Sandro, who didn’t even react anymore. He’d fallen asleep, leaving Kevin on his own with the monster crawling their way.
But this wasn’t Roberto’s house. It wasn’t his basement filled with torture implements. And Roberto hadn’t cut his own belly open.
It was Daddy who was the monster.
Despite the shudders shaking his body, Kevin grabbed the pillow and faced Roberto, who bared his teeth like a rabid wolf, ready to fight despite deadly injuries.
“You… don’t want to do that, Kevin,” Roberto rasped, and Kevin could hardly comprehend how the man was still speaking when he might not survive another twenty minutes with his insides out like a wolf gored by antlers. “Your Sandro is a killer… Do not trust him. I would have hurt you, yes, but he will murder you. See that chair?” He once more made Kevin pay attention to the interior of the room that seemed to have one purpose only—torment. “Let me end him. I won’t survive, but you will. Call the police. Don’t be stupid. There’s no money for you in this. He wanted to get rid of you, anyway. That’s what he does with all the boys,” Roberto said with a grim smile full of determination.
Kevin hugged the pillow as Roberto inched closer, like a wounded alligator still ready to snap its jaws one last time. His words hurt more than any damage he could still inflict.
But then Roberto pulled on Sandro’s leg with surprising force, making Sandro’s head fall to the side, and eventually slide over the concrete wall until it hit the floor.
“No!” Kevin cried out, and without thinking it through, he descended on Roberto with the pillow.
The man gargled, tried to scream, but what came out was muffled noise. He twisted and tried to grab Kevin’s forearm, but his hold was weak as a child’s. No matter what happened next, Kevin wouldn’t let anyone hurt Sandro. Not now. Not ever.
So he pushed the pillow down despite choking on sobs and held it in place until his knuckles turned white. Even once Roberto stopped struggling, Kevin couldn’t unclench his hands off the pillow, irrationally sure that if he did, Roberto would come back from the dead, with fresh strength, and eat him alive.
But his only companions in the corridor were silence, his own fear, and the stench of blood and decay. He could imagine what went on in the torture chamber for it to smell so intensely of bleach.