Frozen Tears

Chapter Eight

"No..." He whispers, slowly descending his face towards mine. "What are you?" 

I feel my barriers slowly weakening behind my eyes, threatening to let the water flow, but I keep my head high and look him straight in his scared eye. 

"I'm am sick of hearing that question over and over. Next time you want to know anything about me, you should maybe just ask politely, instead of knocking my sister out. I hope for your sake-" I actually poke him in the chest "-that she's still very much alive!"

It's my turn to be demanding. I'm shocked by the ice-cold confidence radiating from my voice. I continue, satisfied with his shocked expression. Amusement glitters in his eyes though. 

"I owe you nothing." I finish. There's a deadly silence and I'm proud of myself. But somehow, the silence doesn't make me feel that proud. In fact, the deadly frightening way that his face contorts into an expression of terror makes me wish that I'd just kept my mouth shut. 

"Get out." He hisses suddenly, and for a moment I think that he's talking to me. But when I see Jay, from the corner of my eye, standing his ground, gaining a snarl from Scar-man, I realise that he's talking to them. In a second the men are gone, and only Jay remains. 

"I'll help you with her." He declares stubbornly, not moving even when Scar-man whips his head to face him with a deadly snarl that sends waves of horror washing over me. 

"Go." His voice is thundering, commanding, and his eyes are clouded with anger. Almost unwillingly, Jay is forced outside of the room and the heavy iron door slams shut, debating the invisible cord practically pulling him out. 

Scar-man turns to face me again, a terrorising grin stretching across his face. 

"Let's begin shall we?" 

...°...

"Let me go!" I scream, watching him inspect the wall intently. I'm hanging on the stone wall besides it, arms and legs stretched as far away from my body as they can go and secured with metal manacles at each extremity, so that it feels like I'm slowly being ripped apart. On the identical wall that he's eyeing hangs a display of knives, swords, needles, blades and guns with the most eccentric forms of bullets in caskets, all gleaming like deadly promises in the hauntingly yellow light projected by the single light-bulb hanging low from the ceiling.

"I already told you..." Scar-man says with frightening calmness, "If you tell me what you are, I will let you go." He reaches for something that looks like a razor blade, but I can't focus on much else than the sharp pain that comes with my limbs being stretched much past their limit. 

He approaches me slowly, tauntingly, sliding the blade across his fingers absent-mindedly. Blood immediately spills in shocking quantities, and he hasn't even applied pressure. That's when I become aware of the abnormal sharpness of the metal in his hands, glinting mischievously in the light bulb's glare. I gasp when the wound on his hand closes up seconds after, as if it had never been there. Crimson blood is the only thing that serves as evidence of him cutting himself across his pale skin.

"Stop!" I plead when he stops directly in front of me, twirling the blade around in his hands before brushing a strand of blond hair around from my face. A chill courses through me at the feeling of the iciness protruding from his skin on mine. "Please - please... no please!" I scream again when I feel the blade slicing my arm down in a quick swirl of his hand. 

The blood immediately starts to pour. I whimper and bite my lip in pain, but won't show any weakness again. I can't, it's the only weapon I have against him. At the lack of any noise coming from me, his eyes turn red. Like glowing red.  It looks like a fire has burned up and started in his eyes, blazing with every movement he makes.