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“I’m sure they are,” I say, the mechanical voice of the modulator ringing out in the large room.

I’ve done this enough to know every phase. It’s as if they need to go through a full grieving process to come to terms with the fact that they are going to die.

Calm indifference always works better than threats. Our minds take any situation and twist it into something far more terrifying than anything I can say.

I watch for the moment…the flash of panic that crosses his face when he understands that nothing he says will make a difference. Men like Mr. Frank Lewis think they are untouchable…above the law.

“Please. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll give you anything, just tell me what you want.”

“That is good to hear, Frank,” I say, and his eyes widen further at his name. “Tell me your sins.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Lie.

Plucking the small remote off the side table, I walk back and stand in front of him. I set the machine to level one and turn it on.

“Ahhhh!”

Frank wails as the knife fillets the skin away from the muscle on his chest as it rotates once around his body. A narrow and perfectly even ribbon falls to the floor.

“It is unwise to lie to me, Mr. Lewis.”

He nods furiously, and the first of many tears run down his cheek.

“Let’s try this again. What sins have you committed?”

He presses his lips, and I raise the remote threateningly again.

“Wait…please…I’ll tell you.” He swallows hard. “I stole money from clients.”

“What else?”

“What else do you want to know?”

I flick the remote on and off so fast that it only moves a couple of inches. He whimpers as blood trails down his body.

“I want to know everything. Start with what happened in court.”

“I…oh God…I lied in court. I lied to the judge under oath.”

“What did you lie about?”

He pauses a little longer than I like, so I turn the machine to two and then on. Lewis screams at the top of his lungs. My jeans tighten as my excitement grows. Two more strips of skin are torn away and fall, leaving a four-inch belt of muscle showing as more blood flows.

“Why are you doing this?” Lewis blubbers.

He looks down to see a river of red. He is nothing more than an animal being skinned alive. There is a moment of confusion on his face, as if his brain cannot quite make sense of what is happening to him. Then he screams again and again until he coughs.

“Do not answer a question with a question,” I scold as if I’m addressing a child.

I turn on my machine again. Once more, it circles his body only an inch lower with each full rotation. It doesn’t matter if he thrashes. The machine suits my personality, and even if it misses a spot, the sensors read it and take the same line until all the skin is gone.

Wild eyes find mine.

“I lied about having affairs.” He stammers quickly. “I lied about how much money I have. I lied about everything,” he yells and then slumps in the chains as if his soul has been exorcized of its demons.

“Doesn’t that feel better?”