“You complete bastard!” I scream in fury, thrashing in my bonds. All I can think about is hurting him. Punching him. Clawing him. Ripping out his throat with my teeth. Drinking his hot blood and laughing at his corpse.
“The thing is,” he continues, as if I hadn’t started screaming or struggling. “With you I don’t think I’ll need to hurt someone you care about. Your Vessel Soul is already mostly emerged. I just need to push you over the edge.”
He decides on a knife. It’s one of the medium sized ones with a thin, wicked looking blade about five inches long. He holds it in his hands and turns back to me, smiling.
I’m not screaming anymore but I’m still struggling, pulling on the ropes, teeth bared in a feral snarl. I can feel and hear the chair creaking beneath me. However, it doesn’t budge. I’m trapped.
“I’m going to hurt you, Sara. For however long it takes. I’m going to hurt you and break you.” He says, walking over to me. I can feel my Vessel drawing to the surface and I struggle to rein it in.
It’s difficult, however. All I want is to let it go. Because if I let it go, I will most likely be able to escape and quite possibly kill the vile master in the process. I don’t allow it loose. If it escapes now, I won’t be able to pull it back. I’ll be lost.
The master takes the long sleeves of my tunic in his hands and carefully cuts them away, making sure to not cut my skin quite yet.
I start to quiver, not only in fear but also in exertion. The knife is poised over the skin of my arm, right above my wrist. He’s going to cut me. He’s going to hurt me and there’s nothing I can do about it.
The line is opened and I scream. He takes his time. It’s slow and it digs deeply, sliding through my skin and flesh. I’m hyper aware of the knife inside my flesh. I can feel everything.
And then the knife is gone. I open my eyes, not even realizing that I’d clenched them shut. I look down and see the silver blade stained dark with my blood. The cut isn’t as deep as I’d thought. It barely cut into my flesh at all. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt though.
The knife comes down again and opens another line just above the other. I scream again. Its white hot and throbbing and I can’t think past the pain and the immense pressure in my head. The Vessel Soul is right below the surface struggling. It wants out. I want to let it out. The pain will end if I just let it go.
But I don’t. And I won’t. I will endure.