Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 147673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
William was mad. Never in his life had Laurent encountered such pure, remorseless evil. Would Laurent’s own sanity be his key to safety, or was he about to spiral into madness as well? His insides were already twisting painfully.
He assessed how far the shackle would allow him to move, and it wasn’t much.
William sighed and approached him with the open scissors in hand. “Do not worry. I will let you experience a man’s touch before you die. Unless you make me really angry, but I can’t quite have a new boy down here every week. Not for the things I want. People would start talking.”
The thought of the vile creature on top of him now made Laurent want to retch. How was it possible that he hadn’t seen the evil hiding in William’s eyes? Not only was his eyesight failing, his thoughts had been clouded by Laurent’s own illicit lust, and now he would pay the highest price for that blindness.
In his other hand, William waved the collar, as if offering it to Laurent. “When I put this on you, you will forever do as I please, but I like a bit of a struggle that first time.”
Did the collar have spikes to torture a man until he obeyed? What was William on about? Laurent needed to do something and quickly, before the rush of fire in his veins ran out. He frantically searched his mind for any clues, any ideas from books he’d read, but when William approached again, Laurent bolted at him on his knees and bit into his arm like a rabid dog, all finesse forgotten.
A loud shriek resonated through the room, and both the scissors and the collar fell to the floor with a dull clang. William’s face twisted into a nightmarish shape and he descended on Laurent like a harpy, both hands squeezing around Laurent’s unprotected neck. They pressed down hard, thumbs digging into Laurent’s Adam’s apple, nails tearing at skin as William’s mouth stretched into a devilish grin full of pale fangs.
“Me? You’re trying to hurt me? You little boy cunt! You will regret having teeth! I will pull them all out one by one so you feel better on my prick!” William yelled.
The scissors glinted nearby, and Laurent reached for them, stretching his arm despite it being his one free hand. All instincts cried out for him to use it to stop William’s hands from pressing down, from cutting his air supply, but Laurent looked into the grotesque mask of a face above him and did as his survival instinct bid him.
His fingertips brushed against the open blade that turned out to be as sharp as Laurent had imagined, but the shallow cuts were nothing in comparison to the pain caused by lack of air or the earlier punch to the head. His lungs ached as if a thousand needles pricked them all at once, and his blurry, distorted vision darkened at the edges.
William yelled more threats and profanities, which couldn’t penetrate Laurent’s mind anymore when William pulled him up by the neck and bashed his head against the floor. But even as it resonated with pain and rattled him to his core, the brutal shaking moved Laurent those few inches farther away from the bed.
Laurent grabbed the steel scissors and swung the blade across William’s throat.
Warmth splashed across his face, and the hands around his throat first tightened, then let go when William pulled his limbs in, hands frantically pressing under his jaw to suppress the flow of bright red. His mouth opened wide, like a dog’s about to howl, but all that came out was a gurgle accompanied by yet another splash of blood.
The whole house shook, and a bone-searing screech tore through the air. The door rattled, as if someone were attempting to open it by force, but all of Laurent’s attention was on the distorted monster above him.
He could not risk that the wound he inflicted was one William could recover from, and when his tormentor frantically rose to his knees, Laurent stabbed the open scissors into the vulnerable stomach that was now only hidden by a linen shirt. The screech that reminded Laurent of the sounds made by birds of prey drilled into his ears as he stabbed the two blades into flesh over and over, even after William toppled over Laurent and then dropped like a log over him. His mangled flesh squelched loudly, replacing William’s shrieks, but Laurent continued even when the torn innards began to stink.
“I hate you so much!” Laurent sobbed, disgusted by the coppery scent penetrating his nostrils and the hot dampness soaking through his clothes.
Blood was warm on his skin, soaking into him like a balm that would never wash off, leaving a distinct scent of murder on his flesh. He must have lost it for a few moments, because one moment William was still thrashing over him, and the other—still as death.