Salvation

Salvation #7

Janie wades through the shallow water. Waves ebb around her ankles and lightly trickle over my feet.

"Am...am I asleep again?" I stammer.

Janie nods, "Always sleeping."

"Where am I?" my eyes flicker over the pale crescent of sand.

"At the beach," Janie trills, skipping through the water.

"You've said that already," frustration slips into my voice.

Janie freezes, flashing around on her bare heels. "Where do you want to be?" she asks, cocking her head to the side.

"What beach are we on?" I snap. Janie shrugs, splashing the water with the edges of her feet.

"Who are you?" I frown.

"Janie. Who else would I be silly?" she giggles.

"No I mean...who are you exactly? Like what are you doing here?"

The small amount of colour in Janie's porcelain skin drains away. "Don't you want me here?" her frail voice covers darker thoughts. "No, no," I say quickly. Something troubling streaks through her blue eyes.

"Then why are you asking so many questions?" she demands sharply. I flinch and stumble back.

My eyes flash over the smiley face dug into her skin. My gaze drops to the crooked face carved into my stomach. "I have the same one," I murmur.

"We all have the same one," Janie breathes.

"We?" I glance up at her.

Janie nods, "All the girls he killed. We all have the same."

"W-what? I-I'm not dead," I choke.

"Of course not. Not yet," Janie smiles, shaking her head. She stares at me as if I'm insane. "You're just sleeping."

"How am I sleeping?" confusion creases my forehead.

"Hmm?"

"How'd I fall asleep? I don't remember falling asleep," I murmur.

"You never remember falling asleep silly," Janie shakes her head.

"No but...," I trail off, caught in a perplexed circle.

"Chloroform," Janie mumbles.

"What?"

"He used chloroform," Janie says.

She skips over to me and rocks on her heels. "Then you're not real. I'm dreaming," I breathe. Janie shakes her head. Tears quickly fill her eyes. "Don't say that!" she screams, "Don't you dare say that!"

I stumble backwards. My heart swells, urging me to run. "How can you say that?" she chokes. Words hangs on my lips, stolen away by a violent jolt.

My eyes flash open, created by blurry vision. A fragile scream pushes against the roof of my mouth. Pain crawls over my skin, pricking my eyes with tears.

A hazy shadow looms over me, jerking in and out of my view. Agony races over my wrists, burning through my flesh.

Gradually my vision adjust to the disorientated world. My gaze flashes over the basement frantically. I try to struggle but my body just falls limply against the concrete.

"Awake again?" the man leans over me, tilting his head. "You look sleepy." He strokes the side of my face with the back of his hand.

My eyes dart over my wrists. Barb wire is tangled around them tightly. The sharp wire pierces through my skin and blood soaks my fingers.

"Guess I better wake you up," he murmurs. He traces the edge of my jaw with a gloved hand.

He slips his bare hand beneath his heavy jacket, revealing a lighter. My frails screams fall into groggy whimpers. Fear digs it's claws into my heart.

He snaps the lighter on. A bright, orange flame flickers vibrantly. It glows against the cold dark.

He picks up a thin strip of wire and holds it in the flame. I struggle frantically and try to pull away from the drowsy hold of the chloroform.

"Did you sleep well?" he asks, pressing the hot wire against my skin. It burns through my flesh, searing over my wrist. Tears sting my eyes and a scream rips through my chest.

I silently plea for Janie to take me back into the bliss unconsciousness. The agony claws at my skin and twists around my mind.

The man lifts the wire off of my skin. The cool air rushes over the fiery burn. Tears trickle down my cheeks and spill over my lashes.

He tosses the strip of wire onto the concrete. Gently he brushes the side of my face, smearing away a tear. "Don't be afraid," he whispers.

His hand hovers over my skin before sliding underneath his jacket. He pulls out a thin cigarette. The flame reignites over the lighter, flickering violently.

Clamping the cigarette between two fingers he dips it into the flame. The lighter snaps out and he purses his lips over the cigarette.

Sobbing, I try to shift away from him. He takes a long drag, forcing the tip of the cigarette to glow. Smoke rolls off of his lips, hovering over my head. I cough sick, painful gags.

The man eyes wander over my stomach. His fingers trail over the hem of my short shirt, bunching it around my rib cage.

He presses the tip of the cigarette against my stomach. A scream bubbles over my tongue. I thrash against the hold of the barb wire. The stiletto heels scrape the concrete and my head falls back.

Pain wraps around my stomach, darting over my chest. "Please," I beg. My nails scratch against the concrete floor. "Oh God please," I cry, "Please don't kill me."

He slowly peels the cigarette off. My burning skin clings to the end of the cigarette. "Please, please. Oh God please. I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry," I whimper.

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. "Do you pray?" he asks, running his finger along the edge of my jaw. A sob catches in the back of my throat, slowly suffocating me. "Hmm? Do you pray?" his fingers venture down the curve of my neck, "Do you believe in God?"

He slides the collar of my thin shirt between his fingers. "No," I choke, "No."

"Then why are you begging for His forgiveness?" the man says. He forces the cigarette against my shoulder. It digs through my skin, searing my flesh.

I scream and desperately try to tear away from him. He pushes the cigarette deeper through my skin. It smoulders before snuffing out.

A flash of anger crosses his features. His hand seizes my neck. My squeal echoes off of the walls, caging me. His fingers burrow into the throat, strangling me.

"You're a sinner," he growls. A whimper trickles over my lips. I gasp desperately for air and struggle against his hold. A warm tear slips down my face.

Awkwardly I claw at his hand, struggling against the tangled barbwire. He clamps his hand down on my neck. His heavy fingers block my windpipe. The whistle of air struggling through my throat creeps inside my head.

"You're a sinner."