Jack whimpers and my head snaps up. I haven’t heard a peep from him in a while. Who knew such a cocky little fucker would be so weak? My blood pressure spikes again. Just knowing he is breathing is unbearable. My jaw clenches as I take in his battered body, gently swinging on the chains. His hands arebound together in a single loop as the metal digs into his wrists. He has been stretched so far that his feet are permanently pointed, always searching for something to take the pressure off his shoulders and wrists.
I take another drag of my cigar and hum along to the chorus. I need to stay in control. I need answers. There have been too many close calls where I almost lost him to my rage. I cannot make another mistake.
“Are you ready to talk yet, Jackie boy?” I taunt from my seat, watching with sick satisfaction as he pisses himself.
God, that stinks.
“Jesus,” I bark. “Don’t you know how to hydrate yourself?”
Nothing.
Hmm.
I stand slowly, cigar still in my hand as I continue to hum and walk towards him. Jack shivers as I grab his face and hold the cigar in front of his eyes.
“Would you miss your eyes or your toes more, I wonder?” I muse, watching him flinch.
“I t… t… told you,” he stutters.
“You haven’t told me shit, Jack,” I sneer, grabbing his cheeks and pressing the cherry of my cigar into the centre of his chest. The skin sizzles, turning red before burning through skin until blood and pus ooze from the wound.
Jack wails and I keep going for a couple of seconds. Frustratingly, he has no stamina for torture. Every time I get close to anything useful, he passes out. If he keeps this up, I will have to use one of the upper drugs I created. I have held off until now. I don’t have an unlimited supply.
It is still in trial you see? I was hoping I wouldn’t have to waste it on him.
“I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!” he cries. I laugh. I don’t mean to, but I can’t help it.
“Try again,” I say, letting go and walking back to the tray. I pick up the pizza cutter and make sure he sees it in his good eye. He trembles. He took a beating before he even made it to the chains. I can see at least two ribs protruding and his left eye is completely swollen shut.
“Whoever sent you has their information wrong, Long…Longstaff.”
I tut, shaking my head. I take two steps and I am back in front of him, pressing the pizza cutter to his chest and slicing down. Starting from the burn, I make sure it hurts but not too deep. His screams cut through Marvin’s voice, the two sounds twisting together into something more potent than any drug.
“Nobody sent me, Jack,” I say, once his screams taper off into whimpers.
“W… what?” he mumbles as confusion flickers across his face.
It would be my first thought too, but then again, I am acting without The Company’s consent. I wonder why he thinks I was sent to eliminate him.
Interesting.
“I said what I said, Jack. I sent myself.”
“Wh… you need to let me go. You’ll get into trouble if this isn’t approved,” he responds, a flicker of hope shines in his good eye as he nods to himself.
Aww, he has hope. Cute.
“You see, Jack.” I turn my back on him, ignoring the gleam even if I can’t wait to crush it. I step back to the tray and run my fingers over the knives. Settling on the scalpel, I press the tip lightly to my finger, watching the bead of blood form.
“I have superior memory,” I continue, as if he asked. I wave my hand slightly. “I know what you’re thinking. Everyone says that they do, but Jack…” I turn and look at him. “My memory is not simply good. It is fantastic. Every detail I have ever listenedto, read, or learnt is all up here.” I tap my finger against my head as I walk towards him. “Go on. Test me. Ask me what day of the week a random date was.”
His silence irritates me more than it should. His big mouth is the reason we are in this situation in the first place. Usually, I cannot get him to shut up. I wait a minute, then another, hoping he will break. Instead, Jack’s head drops.
“TRY ME!” I scream. His body jerks in the chains as he finally looks back at me.
“Er… erm, 27th of January 2001,” he mutters, looking at me like I’m insane. Which, honestly, I probably am. He is not the first person I have tortured who has looked at me like that.
“Easy. Wednesday. Try again.”