He reached the small structure that held the room he’d just rented. Once inside, he realized just how small it was. It had barely enough room to move around in. He would not be able to spread his arms out or enjoy any real sense of space. This room would only be used for sleeping.
But Todd was okay with this. The confined space was no obstacle to his sleep. If nothing else, it reminded him of how little space he had to escape the harshness of his world, how he had very little refuge.
Todd sat on the small bed, his legs barely fitting in the gap between the bed and the wall. He looked to his right to see the small bathroom on the other end, which only had a toilet as the bathroom was the size of a small closet. Next to the closet-sized bathroom there was a sink with a mirror above it. To his left there was the door outside, with a small space heater against the wall.
Todd put his head to the pillow and stared at the ceiling. It was too early for sleep, but he wanted some time to himself before he left his room and ventured out to find Amy’s daughter. He was not looking forward to the meeting. Still, the thought of falling into slumber and never again dealing with the world sounded appealing. Desirable even.
“Please don’t cry.” His soft voice echoed through the small chamber. “Please. I want you to be happy.”
He meant it to. He stared at the young woman strapped down to the metal table. He saw the fear in her eyes. He saw the tear stains running down the sides of her face. Her mouth was covered in duct tape, but she still grunted painfully underneath.
She had gone through much, but it was necessary. For her. For him.
He rubbed his fingers through her now greasy hair. It had probably been some time since this young woman had taken a shower. But that wasn’t important now.
“Please. You are almost there. You are almost where you need to be.” He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he’d removed all of her fingers. She had passed out when he had just cut off one. She stayed unconscious through the removal of the other nine.
She could probably tell she didn’t have fingers anymore. Were it not for her head and arms being strapped down to the table, she would be able to check on her mutilated hands herself. She certainly seemed more defeated now than she had in the past few days, when she’d had more energy to protest what was happening. Or, at least attempt to protest.
They always protested. Because they had no idea what greatness awaited them.
“It’ll all be over soon.”
He held up the sharp knife so that she could see it. Her eyes found the blade and a pathetic, whimpering fear took over as her last emotion. He nodded sadly, but with a small grin, and he pressed the tip of the blade to her throat.
“I’m sorry for how much this will hurt.”