"Picking is tough, Dave. What should I do first?"
I asked, circling him slowly, the cold blade of the knife grazing his trembling skin.
“Should I start with the head up here or the one down there?”
I tilted my head, a twisted grin spreading across my face as I watched the terror etched into his features. He was helpless, bound and exhausted, his blood seeping onto the floor.
I yanked the tape from his mouth, and he gasped for air, his voice a broken whisper.
“Jordan… please, stop!”
He begged, his strength all but gone. His voice trembled with pain and fear, barely more than a wheeze.
I rolled my eyes, feigning disappointment.
“Wrong answer.”
Without a second’s hesitation, I brought the knife down, slicing through one of his fingers. The bone crunched under the pressure, and a strangled, guttural scream erupted from his lips.
“Ahhh—J-Jordan, stop!”
He cried out, his voice breaking as the agony consumed him. Tears streamed down his blood-smeared face, and his body shuddered violently. He was too weak to fight, too drained to do anything but suffer.
I picked up the severed finger, inspecting it with a sick fascination. Then, with a casual flick of my q lol Z, I tossed it into the pot on the stove, the flesh sizzling and popping as it met the heat.
“I’m sure Patricia will love this adobo..”
I mused, stirring the contents with deliberate, exaggerated movements.
“Y-You’re a monster, Jordan!”
Dave spat out, gasping for breath, his eyes wide and filled with a mix of rage and despair.
“Yes, Bro! I know, you're finally right! I'm psychotic, twisted demon.”
I smirked, pausing to meet his glare.
“I’m your living, breathing hell!
I taunted, enjoying the way his body tensed at my words. I stirred the pot once more, the scent of sizzling flesh wafting through the room.
Dave’s voice cracked, his fury barely sustained by the last shreds of his energy.
“Please, Jordan forgive me. We’ bestfriends.”
He demanded, though his voice was barely more than a whisper. “
I let out a harsh laugh, the sound echoing around the room.
“Bestfriends?”
I sneered, shaking my head.
“No, Dave! Do you know why I never wanted to be your friend when we were kids?”
I leaned closer, eyes alight with a dark, twisted amusement.
“It was because of your father.”
Dave’s eyes, already filled with tears, brimmed over with a new wave of grief.
“My father… the father you killed!”
he said through gritted teeth, his voice thick with the memory of loss.
“Oh, so you know about that?”
I clapped mockingly, a grin twisting my lips.
“Bravo! Dave. Did you see it, then? Did you watch how they violated each other?”
I leaned in closer, my voice dipping to a crazed whisper.
“Did you witness how I put an end to their disgusting display? How the blood poured from their bodies as I gutted them, how it stained the floor, warm and red?”
Dave shuddered, his entire body going slack as the last threads of hope slipped away.
“Y-You’re insane!”
He rasped, barely holding onto consciousness as his blood continued to drain from the gaping wounds where his fingers had been.
I chuckled, a wild, deranged laugh that made the air around us feel even colder.
“You should be grateful, Dave.”
I mocked.
“I chose to be your friend all the way from high school until now. Imagine that! A gift from the monster who destroyed your family.”
Dave coughed, his voice little more than a wheeze, his breath hitching as he struggled to speak.
“You’re no friend of mine, Jordan.”
He spat, his voice fading.
“You’re nothing but a murderous lunatic!
I crouched down in front of him, my grin unfaltering.
“I know you never really wanted to be my friend too. ”
I said, my voice low and taunting.
“I know you’ve been plotting revenge all along. You thought you could outsmart me, didn’t you?”
I leaned in so close he could feel my breath.
“But I’m not stupid, Dave. I saw right through you.”
Dave’s eyes flickered with the last remnants of his defiance, but his body was giving out, his voice fading.
“You… you knew?”
he croaked, barely clinging to life.
I laughed again, the sound sharp and grating.
“Of course I knew.” I hissed.
“And thanks to Patricia, your plan unraveled so perfectly. She served herself up on a silver platter, stepping right into your trap… and becoming my pawn instead.”
I ran the knife slowly across his cheek, watching his eyes flutter, his consciousness slipping away.
“Patricia… she never knew”
Dave whispered, a final tear sliding down his cheek. His chest rose and fell in shallow, shuddering gasps.
“Enough talk, Dave!”
I said, a grin spreading across my face, the blade gleaming wickedly under the dim light.
“Say your farewells to this world, because soon, you'll be joining your cheater of father in hell.”
My laughter echoed off the walls, a haunting symphony that made his whole body tremble with dread.
Dave lay bare and bound on the table, fear crawling across his skin like ice. He thrashed against his restraints, his voice hoarse and cracking from his desperate screams. His once-strong defiance had crumbled, leaving behind a man whose spirit was quickly slipping away, replaced by the raw terror of the inevitable.
The knife in my hand seemed to hum with excitement, a predator’s song echoing between us. I stepped closer, savoring the way Dave’s body recoiled.
“I think I’ll start below..,”
I whispered, my voice thick with mockery,
..since Patricia mentioned it’d be quite delicious.”
I gripped him, but not in a way that invited comfort. My touch was a taunting ghost, chilling and unnatural.
“What’s the matter, Dave? Is it thrilling to have your best friend this close, this intimate?”
The words slithered out like poison, erasing any sense of humanity left between us.
He gasped, his eyes wide and pleading, but I paid no attention. The line between sanity and madness had long blurred, and I was the puppeteer, orchestrating the final act of his twisted nightmare. The tension in the room grew suffocating, the air thick and metallic, laced with the scent of his fear.
Then, without warning, the knife flashed. There was no hesitation, no second thoughts—only the swift, brutal severing of hope. Crimson painted the scene, an artist’s sick rendition splattering over us. The essence of life, of suffering, danced in streams, staining everything it touched.
Dave’s consciousness wavered, the fight draining from him like a river’s last breath. His eyes fluttered shut, surrendering to a darkness that whispered of peace he had yet to know.
I wiped the sweat from my brow, feeling the weight of his silence press down, a grim victory that left only emptiness in its wake.
I wasn’t done. No, the story needed a finale. I reached for the heavy axe I’d placed nearby, feeling its cold handle dig into my palm.
Dave’s broken form lay sprawled on the fractured table, and I traced the tension in his neck, knowing this was where his last ties to this world were bound.
With a sickening glee, I raised the ax high, the wood groaning under the weight of what was to come.
“Goodbye, Dave!”
I said softly, the whisper carried by a nonexistent wind. The axe came crashing down, and the room split with the final, irreversible crack, the ultimate end echoing like a closing book.
The table collapsed under the force, splinters flying, as Dave’s lifeless body crumpled to the ground. His head, now separated from the torment that had consumed it, rolled to the door, a grim messenger finally set free.
Blood pooled in waves, an ocean spilling secrets that could never be washed away.
I bent down, picking up his head with a strange reverence.
“Patricia.. dinner’s almost ready.”
I whispered, my smile unhinged as I placed the severed reminder into the boiling pot. The steam curled upward, whispering tales of broken friendships and the consequences of betrayal, as I stirred my macabre masterpiece.