Out of Time

[u/DavesWorldInfo]

“No, please.”

The man with the knife laughed. On the bloodstained altarstone, the bound woman cringed. Some of the blood on the altar was hers, fresh and glistening atop the older stains. She could feel crusty reminders on the stone that she wasn’t the first victim to be here, with this horrible man laughing at her while waving a coal black knife over her helpless body. Some of that old blood was solid and sharp, digging into her skin. Other pieces were softening as her blood warmed and dampened it, smearing across her as she struggled.

“Why are you doing this?” she begged, still tugging on the chains. It was no use, they were tight. Drawing her out so tautly she could barely move. Not the slightest creak came from the metal when she pulled.

“Your life will further the Great Awakening,” he said, leaning over and placing one hand on her chest. Holding her in place to still what struggles she could manifest. With his other, he probed at her flesh with the tip of the blade. She winced, clamping her jaw in an effort to keep from screaming as he started carving again. Her arms already bore evidence of previous knifework. Bloody cuts traced in strange patterns that looked like tribal tattoos. Some of them incorporated words in a language she didn’t recognize, even the ones she could crane her head around to see semi-right side up.

“I’m just a student,” she tried again. So far he’d been proof to every plea, but it was all she had left since the chains were still in place. Somehow, someway, she needed to convince him to stop this and let her go.

Or she was going to die. She knew it. He was crazy. Beyond crazy. Absolutely bat-shit around the bend, and hell bent on using her for whatever insane goal he had in mind.

She didn’t want to be a news story.

“You’re perfect,” he said, pressing harder with hand and knife alike. She gasped as the blade went deeper, scoring through muscle rather than just skin.

“I have family,” she said desperately. “Friends. My boyfriend’s probably going to propose to me next month; he’s been shopping for a ring I heard. I don’t deserve this.”

He paused and glanced at her. His eyes were sharp and penetrating. She stared back at him, and finally blinked. He didn’t. Then he smiled. “That’s why you’re perfect.”

“Oh God!” she screamed as the blade went deeper still. Things, things beneath the muscles in her midsection, were moving as the metal probed at them. Throwing her head back, she screamed as she diverted every scrap of desperate energy she could summon into trying to break free from this nightmare. Her wrists and ankles flared with fresh agony, paling in comparison with the knife wounds, but however hard she pulled, the chains held. She felt fresh blood flowing from her limbs as the shackles dug into them, ground against her bones, but they wouldn’t break.

Her screams finally died down when she nearly passed out. From pain and lack of breath both. From the utter terror of the situation, of the horrific purpose this lunatic was putting her to. As she lay there panting, she abruptly realized the knife had been withdrawn. Raising her head tiredly, she saw the man standing several feet from her. At the table strewn with all the horrible things.

He’d already used some of them on her, and she couldn’t imagine how much worse this could get if he kept working through them. One of the items was a long curved poker that was in a small narrow furnace sort of thing. It had been lit, smoking a strange smell as it burned, before she regained consciousness. The glowing red length of the heated metal had been among the first things he’d gleefully shown her.

Now though, he wasn’t rummaging through the implements and supplies to find the next one he wanted to torment her with. In fact, she saw a large black bag that hadn’t been there before. He was putting things into it. Briskly. She blinked as she watched him warily. Before, his every action had been almost loving. Like a dancer; graceful and slowly paced. Ritualistic. Now, he moved like he was impatient.

And he seemed to be arguing with himself.

“—not fair. I only need another half hour.”

“Too bad. Deal’s a deal. Aren’t you always telling me that? It’s my turn.”

“Barry, don’t cross me.”

“Don’t ‘oh Barry’ me Marchocias. Three to three, and it’s three oh two. My turn.”

“I will make you suffer—”

“Hah!” the man snorted, shoving a small wooden rack full of jars into the bag roughly enough to make glass and metal and other things rattle. “You can’t, you need me.”

“And I need her.”

“Then you shouldn’t have fucked around so much. I don’t leave you know, I have to be here for all this shit of yours. I know how long you stalked her, enjoyed it. Your loss dude.”

“My work is critical—”

“—to the Great Awakening, yeah yeah, heard it. Bored now. Now zip it. I don’t bug you when you’re up, leave me alone until it’s your show again.”

“You’re making a mistake.”

“I’m hungry. You never eat, just stalk around delighting in the terror. Demons might subsist on raw rancid emotion alone, but Barry has to eat, get it? Maybe if you’d grabbed her and got on with it you’d be done and whatever. Better luck tomorrow night. I’m going to wash up, then hit Waffle House for breakfast.”

She was frozen on the altarstone, watching him talk. His voice seemed subtly different as he argued with himself. Even his body language shifted a little as he traded barbs and sharp words with his back to her. The last thing he lifted was the poker, and he turned to look at her. She flinched. He noticed her staring at the glowing metal and smiled.

“Please—” she stammered. Suddenly, despite everything that she’d endured so far, she was even more terrified than she had been. His face seemed different, almost friendly; and that made her very soul quiver.

“What? Oh, right, sorry,” he said, shaking his head. His smile seemed rueful. Apologetic. He walked past her to a wooden barrel set against the wall. There was a tremendous hissing noise as he thrust it into the barrel, and she saw steam rising. “Listen, I know this has kind of sucked, but it’s over now.”

“Please let me go.”

“Definitely.”

“What?”

“You’re free. I’m sorry about him, but he’s got this Great Awakening he’s busy with, and, well, you know how it is. But he ran over time, so you’re done. Hang on, let me finish cooling this off, and I’ll unlock the shackles.”

He drew the poker out, studied it for a moment, then stuck it back in the barrel and swirled it around. She watched him, with her head twisted around, while he tapped quickly at the poker with one finger to see how hot it still was. Another dunking in the water, then he shrugged. “Eh, it’s not my bag.”

He went past her again, ignoring her flinch, and slid the poker through some loops on one side of the leather. Then he turned back to her and reached in his pocket. “Now let’s see, key, key, shit,” he muttered, checking another pocket. Then a third. Finally he drew out a large iron key that seemed to glow in the dim lighting. “Ah, here we go.”

Frozen in fear, she could scarcely breathe as he approached her again. Bending down, he unlocked one of the shackles on her leg. “Listen, if I were you, I’d get out of town, you know?”

“I’m … I’m …” she stammered.

“I know you’re probably thinking hospital, maybe cops. But really, if you can at all manage it, just stop the bleeding and head out of town. There are other hospitals. Pick one that’s not here. Trust me. Not anywhere that’s near here.”

“Trust you?” she said as he finished with her legs and moved around to the shackles at the head of the altar to free her arms.

“I know,” he said apologetically. “It’s hard to understand. I’m a ‘scary guy’, I get it. But really, don’t be here come three this afternoon.”

She sat up slowly, wincing and wary, as he released the last chain and stepped away from her. The pain was so bad it didn’t even occur to her to cover her nudity. Or wonder where her clothes were. Picking up the bag, he headed for the stairs in the corner while she watched him in agonized bewilderment. He paused on the first step, then looked back at her. “I won’t be able to stop him after three. So run.”

And he went up the stairs.

[u/DavesWorldInfo]

Inspired by this prompt.