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Setting her jaw, Ashley nodded, and turned toward her father again. The pain looked pathetic. He couldn’t even speak now, all that came from his throat were gulping hiccups and whimpers. Blood poured from both sides of his head, which looked strangely misshapen without the protruding ears.
Ashley stood before him and kicked one of his busted knees. Ernest bellowed a scream.
"Do you remember what you did on my twelfth birthday Dad?" Ashley asked.
I moved behind her, not wanting to distract her from what she needed to do. Ernest jerked his head back and forth. "What are you doing?" He screamed as drool and snot hung in thick strings from his lips. "Please god. Let me go."
Ignoring his protests, Ashley went on. "That was when I knew I had to get away from you. You and Mom took me out to my favorite restaurant, then you took me to the store for a shopping spree sort of thing." She laughed, a sad little sound. "It was actually a really good afternoon. I’d convinced myself that you wouldn’t touch me, that you wouldn’t ruin such a great day. I’d been wrong."
Ashley slashed out with the steak knife. The blade struck his belly and a weird zipper sound came from it as the serrated tines struck the flesh. The flesh parted, yellowish white fat spurted out like a hernia, filling the wound, and a moment later blood pulsed out. Ernest screamed again, looking down in horror at himself. Ashley appeared unconcerned by what she’d done. I bit my lower lip and stared at the man as he screamed. It was all I could do not to slide a hand between my legs. The sexual tension in my body was almost too much to control.
"While I lay in my bed," Ashley went on. "You came in late. It was probably after midnight. I still remember that, because you got on your knees beside me, resting your elbows on the comforter. You put your fucking hands together and prayed. You prayed to your god. You asked for his guidance. I’ll never forget these fucking words. You asked him for help ‘showing my daughter the depths of my love.’ You piece of shit," She screamed. "You motherfucking bastard. Then you pulled my pajamas down and told me to submit to a father’s love. Well submit to this, you cock sucker."
She slashed again with the knife, this time deeper, in the same spot as before. Not only did the skin part, but the fascia, muscle, and tendons beneath. I gaped as the gray and purple ropey worms of his intestines slid out like lazy snakes to pile onto his lap.
Ernest couldn't even scream anymore. Instead, he looked down in confused horror as the things that had always been inside his body suddenly appeared outside. He took three or four gasping breaths before Ashley uncorked the acid and poured it over his head.
I flinched, assuming he’d begin screaming immediately, but to my surprise, it poured out across his head, face, and down his chest to his ruined belly without him doing anything. It was as though she’d poured water on him. It wasn’t until Ashley took a few steps back that the effect took hold. Ernest grunted in surprise, then I noticed the small wisps of brown vapor begin to rise off his scalp.
It was nothing like acid in the movies or TV. It worked slowly. His screams built in volume and intensity as the liquid worked on dissolving his flesh. The path the acid took as it had been poured on him was easy to see, first turning yellow, then red, until finally a dark black. Despite being eviscerated, he still struggled to pull himself free. His eyes had gone milky white from the acid. He was blind, but he didn’t need to see to experience the pain. Eventually, his guts slid off his lap onto the floor, the weight of them tearing at the remaining innards. White strings of tendon and fat tumbled out, along with an ocean of blood.
By the time he finally died, his face was a brown and smoking mass, warped by the ravages of the acid. When his last sounds died away, Ashley turned and collapsed into my arms, sobbing. I took her into an embrace, rubbing her back.
"It’s okay. It’s all over. You’re free," I said.
We stood like that for a long time. Sam would probably have me put her own bracelet device on once we were done. She was part of this now. Ashley was now one of Sam’s dolls, whether she wanted it or not.
The problem was that when we finally walked out of the room, there was no device waiting for her. Sam didn’t even give us any direction on where to go.
"Does it get easier?" Ashley asked, wiping her face.
No reason to lie to her. "You get used to it, but I wouldn’t say it gets easier."
I didn’t mention the sexual excitement I’d gotten watching her kill her father. I didn’t think many others experienced that same emotion. I could have been wrong, but I wanted that tiny secret as my own. There was very little that belonged to me in this place, and I wanted to keep those things close.
"You were amazing in there," Ashley said.
When I looked at her, there was a strange rapt attention she was giving me. Like a kid meeting their favorite sports or music idol. Was this what hero worship looked like? Maybe.
"All I did was help you get through it. Nothing more."
Ashley shook her head and smiled at me in that strange way. "You did more than that."
The rest of the day went by in a strange blur. Sam had me show Ashley to Elise’s old room, where she stayed, only coming out for lunch and dinner. By the end of the day, Ashley wasn’t even trying to hide how much she appreciated me. She almost clung to me like a baby clinging to a mother.
That night, I fell into a fitful sleep. My doze was shattered at some point by the sensation of arms scooping me out of bed. In that strange horizon between sleeping and wakefulness, my mind glossed over the moment with a dream that Drake was picking me up, ready to do terrifyingly erotic things to my body.
When I finally realized what was happening, a thousand alarm bells rang in my head, screaming and shouting for me to fight. Instead, another more reptilian part of my mind took over, preventing me from struggling or even tensing. I lay, slack in the stranger’s arms, letting him carry me from my room. Where were they taking me? Part of me wondered if this might not be my ticket out of here. If Sam thought I was still knocked out from the gas, then he would assume I’d be asleep for hours. He could be taking me someplace beyond the fences.
I resolved to see where this led, and would only fight if I thought he’d try to kill me. It wasn’t long before a second sound echoed through the hallways around us. More footsteps. Opening my right eye a sliver, I noticed another man ahead of us. It had to be a man, the shoulders were too broad to be anything else.
The other man held a woman in his arms as well. Dark red hair hanging down, swishing in the air with each step. Ashley. Why were they taking both of us? Or had they already moved the others? It wouldn’t be the first time this happened. Sam had moved us once before at the church. Would this be something similar?
The man carrying Ashley had broad shoulders and a walk that struck me as familiar, but without being able to open my eyes wider, there was no way I could know for certain.
When the cool air of the outdoors stirred my hair, I knew we were leaving the grounds. Again, a glimmer of hope. Could we be lucky enough that he’d take us outside the fence? As we kept moving, I thought about how I’d try to break free and run if the time came.
Rather than taking us to the fence or some kind of gate, the men headed straight for the church. When I opened my eyes a sliver to check the direction we were going, I saw the white paint of the building glimmering through the night and the trees. Disappointment burned in my chest, but I stayed calm and continued my impersonation of a dead body until the one carrying me laid me on the ground. Once the footsteps retreated, I allowed my eyes to open fully. The moon shone in the sky, shimmering down a pale milky light on us. I sat up slowly, checking for the men.
