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CHAPTER two

Author: Crystal Lake Publishing
last update Huling Na-update: 2021-09-06 16:19:26
CHAPTER TWO

The camera pushed in to a close shot of the Mediterranean guy’s face. He was still babbling desperately as two dark figures moved in on either side. The figures were blurry shadows, underlit and out of focus. Sam wasn’t sure how they’d achieved the effect because the Mediterranean guy’s face was crystal clear, so were the scalpels the figures held.

The blurry figures moved in unison, as though choreographed. They stretched a tight strap across the guy’s forehead to keep his head still. Only his eyes rolled wildly as he pleaded for his life. Then the figures each took hold of an eyelid and pried them apart.

With their other hands the figures brought the scalpels down into the corners of the guy’s eyes. Using tiny, deft movements they severed the muscle tissue holding his eyeballs in place. The guy stopped imploring the figures and shrieked with pain and fear.

Thin streams of blood spurted from the guy’s eye sockets. The figures put down their scalpels and each produced a set of forceps. They took hold of his eyeballs with the forceps and lifted them out of their sockets, pulling them as far as their optic nerves would stretch. Next they turned the eyeballs so the pupils were pointed at the guy’s mouth. Working together, as though their free hands belonged to the same body, the figures applied dental clamps to the guy’s mouth and forced his jaws apart, holding his eyeballs over his mouth the whole while.

With the clamps in place, the figures picked up their scalpels again and took to slicing off the guy’s top and bottom lips. Blood sprayed the cornea of one eyeball and Sam realised that, as the optic nerves were still attached, the guy could still see out of his severed eyes. He was being forced to watch an extreme close up of his own mutilation.

When the lips were removed, the hand of one figure produced a tiny chisel and held it over the guy’s front tooth. It was the sort of delicate tool a sculptor would use to apply the finishing touches to a marble bust. The other figure’s hand brought a mallet into shot.

The camera pushed in to a close up of the guy’s open mouth and throat. The mallet struck the chisel on his front tooth, with such swift force, that the tooth was not only knocked out of its gum, it embedded itself in the lining of the guy’s throat.

The guy choked and yelled in agony, his throat going into spasms. The figures continued to knock his teeth out, angling the chisel with such precision, and striking it with such power, that each of the teeth was driven into a different part of the guy’s throat. When they were done the whole of his gullet was raw and torn and lined with teeth.

“Jesus this is fucking hardcore,” said Farshad. “Is this for real?”

“Dunno,” said Ashkan. “Ain’t seen this bit before.”

“Thought you said you’d watched it all the way through? Twice now.”

“I have, I just ain’t seen this bit before. Must be some glitch or something.”

The camera pulled back from the ruined face of the Mediterranean guy. The figures left him and moved on to the woman. Two more figures joined them at her side. Sam started to cry and tried not to watch as they went to work on her. Jimmy started to hyperventilate next to him.

What they were doing to the woman was a hundred times worse than the damage they’d inflicted on the Mediterranean guy. She didn’t scream or fight them, and that made watching even worse. She just opened her mouth and let out a silent cry of anguish so profound it transcended the desecration of her flesh.

“Aww man, that ain’t right!” said someone behind them, his voice loud with disgust. “That ain’t right.”

Every time Sam or Jimmy tried to close their eyes or turn away Ashkan punched them both in the back of the head. “Ashkan, please man,” said Sam. “You don’t need to show us anymore. You’ve made your point; you’ll get your money. Honestly, even if I have to sell everything, you’ll get your money. Just don’t make me watch any more. Please don’t make me watch anymore.”

The drug in Sam’s system made him even more susceptible to the footage. He could feel everything they were doing to the woman. Ashkan ignored his pleas; he was mesmerised and appalled by what was happening on the laptop.

There were groans and cries of disgust from the other men in the room. “Turn it off man,” said one. “Turn it off, we’ve seen enough.” Another man started wailing and broke into a sob.

“Can’t turn it off,” said Ashkan. “They’ve got to watch this to the end. They have to learn.”

But the men in the room had all had enough. Jimmy heard two of them turn to leave the lock up. “Alright,” said Ashkan. “We’ll leave them to watch the end of it and we’ll go for a smoke.”

Ashkan and his men were standing behind Sam and Jimmy. It was more intimidating that way. It also made it hard for Sam to work out what was happening. He glanced away from the screen to look at Jimmy. Jimmy had his eyes tightly shut. He’d had enough, but Ashkan was too distracted to notice.

Sam closed his eyes, too. He didn’t want to watch any more footage; it was becoming unbearable. The drugs had left his nerve endings raw.

Someone’s footsteps approached them. Sam winced automatically, expecting a blow, but the footsteps went straight past him. He heard tapping on the laptop keyboard. Were they trying to switch it off?

“Fuck,” a voice said in front of him. Sam didn’t recognise it. “Fuck NO! FUCK!”

The sound of something very sharp going into flesh followed. Then a sudden release of breath, as if the air had been knocked out of someone. Cries of alarm and disbelief rang out behind Sam, then broke off, becoming throttled chokes and coughs.

Sam pulled his chin into his chest and hunched his shoulders. Trying to make himself as small as he could while still taped to a chair. He could feel tears welling up behind eyelids that were screwed shut.

The whole lock-up was filled with the wet ripping of torn flesh and the crackling snap of fractured bones. It was like someone had recorded a slaughterhouse and then played it at triple speed. Only the sounds weren’t coming from the tinny laptop speaker, they were all around him.

Sam couldn’t look, couldn’t open his eyes. He just froze. Every sound made him shake more. What were Ashkan and the others doing to Jimmy? Why didn’t he scream? How could the noise be so deafening?

Sam was next, he knew that. He gritted his teeth but it didn’t hold back the sobs that were breaking from his chest. The front of his jeans became warm and wet as his bladder emptied.

One single thought went round and round in his mind.

Please let it be quick.

Please let it be quick.

Please let it be quick.

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