Mirror Image (Under MAJOR editing)

Chapter 4

Hell... that is exactly where Nan and Marley were. No, there weren't any flames or a red devil pointing his pitch fork at them. This Hell was in a grey brick room that was just big enough to fit in eight people without it being really uncomfortable. The ground was a solid grey, blood-stained cement. Nan's chair faced one wall but was moved much closer to it, leaving space for the other chair and about a foot behind that. She didn't need room though for what was going to happen to her.

As for Marley, her chair was facing the opposite wall, but her chair was up against Nan's. Marley had much more space in front of her since the two brutes who were dealing with her needed more room. Nan was tied down into her chair while Marley was just held down.

"So, Nan, has anyone told you who I am?" His voice was almost hypnotizing, except that he was holding a dagger close to Nan's face so she really couldn't fully concentrate on his voice.

"No. Why would they?" She answered, an edge to her voice.

Nan, no attitude. It will just get you hurt more.

Just shut up. I am already going to get hurt. I am not just going to give in.

Marley got into your head.

Maybe that is a good thing.

I think it isn't.

I think it is and that is final.

Ooh, snappy.

"It doesn't matter why." He stopped and looked down at his dagger. "This is a little dull. I will explain myself while I sharpen it. Is that okay with you?"

Nan didn't answer. It was a rhetorical question. She could see annoyance flick across the man's face, but the next second it was gone as fast as it came.

"Is that okay with you?" With the first word, he cut into Nan's shoulder. She clenched her teeth to keep from gasping, but he cut deeper, having her make a noise.

"Stop hurting her! It isn't her fault. It's mine. I told her everything!" Marley lashed out, getting out of the guard's grip. She motioned to go hit the knife dude when she was hit over the head. Marley fell to the ground next to Nan's chair, having Nan see her bloody forehead.

"Marley, you okay?" Nan asked quietly.

"Yeah... Yeah, I'm fine." Marley said slowly, trying to figure out how bad it was. She picked herself up onto her hands and knees, gingerly touching her head. She was yanked up and thrown into her chair again, having it rock onto its hind legs.

Nan looked back at her tormentor. "Yes. It is perfectly okay." Exaggerating perfectly to give it that certain sound to it.

"Good." The knife was pulled out of her shoulder and Nan saw the glisten of her own blood on it. He wiped it off on Nan's white scrubs. She looked back up at him. He was 6'2 with blonde/brown hair. He had very defined features and blue eyes. "I might as well introduce myself since I know your name, but you do not know mine. Name is James Byrne but people call me Picasso. Quite ironic really. I am 32 years old, right handed, from Ireland. Graduated High School and dropped out of art school. It was so boring and I liked a different kind of sculpting if you know what I mean. And if you don't know now, you will soon find out." He smirked.

"Picasso. I am supposed to call you that?" Nan laughed but stopped when her shoulder throbbed in pain.

"I would prefer if you did call me that. I am calling you by your name." Picasso set down the sharpener and looked at the dagger. "Well, we might as well start. We don't want to miss out on the fun do we?"