Passed through pain
Nausea washed through me, knowing exactly how much pain was involved when skinned alive. The entire room watched as Harold tossed the knife aside and spoke to the camera, with no volume, as per his usual shit. It wasn't until someone else entered the room, his face obscured by a mask, that the camera was adjusted, and the volume came to life. I didn't relish the idea of hearing her screams or reliving the tortured memories they'd bring back to life.
"Nothing yet? She's a different breed, Harold," the masked male an- nounced, and even though he was wearing the mask, we all knew it was Lucas.
"There is that sadistic fuck, Lucas. I can't believe he was under our noses all this time, and had been the one to help Harold in his torture session. But why wear the mask?" Eryx gripped his fists and shook in rage.
My eyes slid back to the woman, noting her head was covered, and I was willing to bet she was probably gagged beneath the sack. It helped Harold and Lucas to dehumanize their victims. It took away having to peer into their eyes, knowing that a soul lived beneath it.
"She'll break, eventually. They all do with enough incentive." Harold snorted, dragging the dull edge of the knife over the inside of her thigh. "Isn't that right, little one? Come on. Daddy wants to play with you, sweet girl."
Muffled sounds filled the room. The girl twisted, and blood ran down her body, drenching the only clothes she wore, a tiny pair of cotton panties. Every inch of her body was covered in angry bruises, and there was nothing I could see that would identify her. "Sick bastard," Xariana grunted, drinking from the glass in front of her.
Why Xavier wanted her to learn about monsters like Harold was beyond me. I had to give her credit; she was a fierce little hunter and took no shit. She was young, but her rose-colored glasses had been shattered long ago,
"Tell me you're mine," Harold demanded.
More muffled cries filled the small room where the girl was held. Men en- tered the frame, freeing her hands, forcing her to stand on legs cut on all sides, showing her thighs' inside sensitive area had been removed. She was a fighter. not that it was doing her any good. She struggled against the men that held her arms, fighting against their hold.
"Give me what I want, and this ends. Tell me you're mine, sweet girl. Come on! Say it, so I don't have to hurt you anymore. You know I don't like to hurt you." Harold leaned closer, tilting his head.
"I thought you said she spoke? She sounds gagged." I asked, not enjoying the show that had my stomach churning with the need to throw up. "Just wait," Cole snorted, nodding at the monitor. "I was told that she starts talking after Harold removes the hood."
"Great," Eryx muttered, downing his drink before refilling it to the rim.
"Wish we could bring this fuck back to life and murder him again and again..." "Me too," I agreed, topping off my glass and leaning back to watch as Harold blocked the view of his victim from the camera.
"Say it again, you little bitch!" Harold snarled, ripping the hood off, tossing it behind him. He continued to block the view, struggling to remove the gag in her mouth. "Saint Kingsley!" The girl's voice filled the room, and my blood turned to ice. "You fucking little whore! He's gone. He can't ever come back. You will give me what I want from you! I will father a child within your womb, even if I have to fucking cutting it out of you!" Harold snarled, slashing against her chest. He moved, and Braelyn, my Braelyn, lunged, her face coming into the camera's view as everyone around me went dead silent.
Blood drained from my face as the glass in my hand shattered. Braelyn's body was mottled in cuts and bruises, and large pieces of her flesh were missing. Her eyes were wild as she continued screeching my name, maddened by her need to say it. Tears burned my eyes, sliding them over the screen as she fought to attack her father even though her body was broken. "What the fucking hell," Zayne asked, turning horrified eyes to where I sat.
"Jesus fuck," Eryx snapped motionless as I watched Braelyn fight a losing battle.
Harold slashed against her stomach, cutting her open as the men grabbed her from behind, holding her up for his abuse. He punched her, but she refused to stop screaming my name like she was trying to shout it loud enough that I'd hear her and come back. Braelyn's head snapped back as the knife slid through the side of her cheek.
Her tiny hands lifted, holding her face as her father continued slashing through her skin. He dropped the blade, and it crashed to the floor as he slammed his fist into her face. She lurched backward, slipping through her blood, fighting to stay upright.
"Gods damn," Xariana uttered, her tone as horrified as I felt.
"Turn it off." I whispered through the saliva pooling in my mouth, unable
to watch anymore. My stomach roiled, threatening to expel the whiskey. No one moved, disgusted and shocked as the film continued with Braelyn slipping to the floor and alphas attacking her crumpled form. It wasn't until a soft cry erupted behind us that everyone turned to see Chaos, watching the woman he loved and considered his mom, mutilated on the screen. "Turn it the fuck off," I whispered, unable to make my voice come out high-
"It's Jane Doe." Xavier stated, forcing my eyes to meet his. "Look at her ankle. Braelyn is Jane Doe."
I turned, staring at where he was pointing, and flinched. On Braelyn's ankle was a small, red mark that was easily missed since it had always been cuffed or bound in the later videos. It had been there when she was younger, which is how Xavier had been identifying her. As she'd grown older, he'd found other ways to try identifying her when they'd used the cuff, such as her non-response to pain, unlike ordinary people. It took immense pain before she would struggle against the people torturing her. I shook my head, unable to process what I was seeing.