Big Bad Wolf (A Miss Hyde Novella Book 3)

by Kindra Sowder

  As it ended, all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball around that portion of myself that had been wounded in so many ways since I woke up in this dark and bleak place. My restraints kept me from doing so. Johan rose from the bed, picking up his jeans and sliding into them without any remorse for what he had just put me through. Something no woman should ever have to suffer through. Heat reached my eyes along with that familiar tingle of Hyde struggling to resurface through the haze of the Liquid X they had been feeding me since I had gotten to their torture chamber. My eyes met Johan’s at that moment, and he frowned, knowing what he needed to do before I could react to what he had just inflicted on me. Well, before Hyde could respond. There was no remorse in his eyes, only anger and a self-righteousness that only came with the thought that you did the right thing. He disappeared from my line of sight and came back with a syringe in his hand filled with the same clear, water-like liquid they had been injecting me with my entire stay.

  “Now, now, we can’t have you getting out,” he said as he touched my arm. I tried to shrink away from him, and Johan greeted me with a back-handed slap that knocked me for a loop. “Don’t move,” he hissed.

  A big pinch in my forearm and the warmth of the drug spread through me, hitting me like a tidal wave as dizziness and fatigue slammed into me. Then everything was black again, and Hyde was gone. I was gone. We were gone.

  Chapter 7

  I awoke with a start to find my vision blurry and the faint image of who I could only assume was Mitch at my feet. No, that was red hair, long and flowing. Neither of my assailants had red hair, but I did. Was I still asleep? I squinted, but that did nothing to clear my vision. I blinked past it, and my vision finally cleared enough to see my own face staring back at me, green eyes glazed over and unfocused as they searched my own. It was Hyde. Here in the flesh? There was no possible way.

  “You’re still out cold,” she said as she traced her fingers along the blood on the bed. “This is the only way I can come to you because of the drugs.”

  She was dressed in the same clothes as me; torn button up shirt soaked in blood, missing panties, no socks, no shoes, no bra, and running mascara from crying. Her lipstick was smudged just as I was sure mine was. Her ankles and wrists were raw and bleeding. I looked up to my own to find the handcuffs gone from my ankles and wrists and moved to sit up, pulling the shirt tight around me like a robe. The injury to my abdomen didn’t sting at all, and I looked down to see it still there, fresh and angry just like when it had Johan did it, but no pain here.

  “This is a dream,” I stated. It wasn’t a question. I knew I had to be. Hyde had never come as a physical manifestation, and she wasn’t about to start. She was attached to me even deeper than I recognized. I felt it.

  She shrugged and looked down at the floor, “It is.” She stood and turned to me so quickly I hadn’t even had time to blink, leaning towards me and resting her hands on either side of me on the bed. “You have to fight. The only way we can get out of this is for you to fight.”

  “I can’t. The drugs….” I stammered as I shook my head.

  “That’s an excuse, Blythe,” Hyde yelled. Her eyes flickered with the evil that made her what she was. “Our body will adjust, but you have to want it to happen. You have to fight them. Liquid X will only work for so long.”

  “I don’t know how,” I yelled in return, my voice cracking in anger. What the Hell did she mean I could fight it? Why did Liquid X only work for so long? What did she have up her sleeve that could get us out of this situation?

  “Yes you do,” she said as she used her index finger to tap at her temple. “Use that pretty little brain of yours. You do know how. You’re just giving up before you even try.”

  “But…”

  “We can’t get out of this until you start to fight for your life, Blythe. What happened to the woman who was strong? Where did that strength go?” She stood and took a step back, letting me take in the full sight of what Johan had done to us with the scalpel. “How can we save ourselves before this happens again? When will the suffering end?”

  “But how?” I begged. “How can I stop this? How do I wake up?”

  “That’s all up to you, my dear.” She leaned back down in front of me and kissed my sweaty forehead tenderly, like a mother with her child. “You fight this, and I’ll make sure they get what’s coming to them. You can count on that.”

  “I don’t think I can,” I divulged to Hyde.

  I was honest. I didn’t believe I could fight what was being done to me. I didn’t think I was strong enough to face the two men who wanted nothing more than to see me dead at their hands.

  “But you can,” she replied. “You can. You have the strength. All you have to do is reach deep down inside yourself and find it again. It’s all up to you. I can’t do it for you.”

  I shook my head again. I wanted to give up. I wanted nothing more than to let them get what they wanted out of my death and move on. That was if I could even die. Even I didn’t know if I could. Hyde stood erect and patted me on the head.

  “Now, it’s time to wake up. They’re back.”

  Chapter 8

  My eyes drifted open; the burning agony of the damage inflicted on my stomach now only a dull prickle from the body numbing effects of the Liquid X I had been dosed with before passing out again. I only saw one person in the room with me, letting me know that this time I was indeed awake and not dreaming like I had been previously. Mitch was standing at the bottom rail of the bed, running a blade over it. The metal on metal hiss made me clench my jaw tight, almost to the point of pain. My head hurt, my body hurt, and my heart hurt and that sound was only making me hurt even more. His eyes met mine and he smirked, nodding for what reason I had no idea.

  “You’re awake. For a minute there I thought he had given you too much,” he explained as he watched me, his eyes never once leaving my face despite my fully exposed body before him.

  “No such luck,” I said as my voice gave a little, pointing to the fact that I had screamed my throat raw, and I hadn’t had any water in what felt like days.

  “That's a shame,” he looked down at the blade in his hands and back up to me. “For you, anyways. We have so much more in store for you. It would be a shame if he killed you already.”

  “If killing my soul doesn’t count then you’ve got a ways to go,” I answered.

  “It’s nice to see that we haven’t completely snuffed out the attitude. Means there’s even more fun in store. I can’t say you’ll benefit from it, but Johan sure gets a kick out of it.”

  “Like the others?” I asked. His statement only begged the question, and I couldn’t help myself.

  He nodded, “I’ll admit we both had our time with those women, but I’ve let Johan handle you until now. He’ll be back, but I wanted to cut in just long enough to break you.”

  “I’ve been tortured and raped, and I’m still in one piece. What makes you think you can?”

  “Johan can hurt someone with the best of them, but I’m known in our circles for being able to break the strongest person. Or monster, as it were.” He chuckled and walked towards me, twirling the knife in his hand, so it caught the dim light in a threatening way. “This,” he used the blade to point at the long gash down my stomach, “is nothing compared to what I have in store for you. I may even let Johan come back and have another crack at that beautiful body of yours before we kill you.”

  I tried to back away from him as he moved closer. Even I knew it would do no good. I was still cuffed to the bed, and I didn’t see that changing anytime soon. Hyde had told me to fight them, but how would I ever have the chance? Was it physical strength or some kind of inner strength she was begging me to call on? I had even admitted to Hyde that I didn’t believe in myself enough to get out of this, but could I find the will to do it? It was basic human instinct to fight to survive, but with a past like mine, that kind of drive was even harder to come by. Could I gain that with this experience? I guessed we would see.<
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  The fear was back as the blade glinted in the light again, drawing my attention from my even darker thoughts. I had tried to retreat into them, but Mitch wouldn’t have that. He was going to break me, and that would require my full attention.

  “Please, Mitch. You don’t have to do this,” I begged as he moved even closer, the blade out and pointed directly at me.

  “But I do. See, I’m like you, Blythe. I have something in me that compels me to torture and to kill.”

  “You’re nothing like me.”

  He laughed, the sound high and maniacal as it bounced off the walls. “You couldn’t be more right. I’m just sick. You,” he pointed at me with the blade, “are something else entirely.”

  “Is that how you justify what you do?”

  “Absolutely.” Something moved behind his eyes, something wicked, and he smiled again. The light reached his eyes and the darkness within him shifted again. He was human and as sick and twisted as they came. That was the absolute truth. “Well, that and that I like it.”

  His greedy eyes moved over the length of my body and then settled on my eyes once again, the smile on his face becoming even more threatening.

  “What would your boss do if he found out what you’re doing?” I wanted to stall him, needed to stall him, but it didn’t work.

  “Oh dear, well, you pose an interesting question, but,” he paused, wiggling a finger at me like I was a naughty child, “you’re stalling. His interest in you doesn’t stop what has to be done. What I need to do.” He hit me, my face stinging and my vision blurring slightly as my skull absorbed the blow. My brain jostled in my head, and my head felt like it was shifting, about to fall off of my shoulders at any second if I wasn’t already lying down.

  He dragged the blade across the skin of the underside of my forearm with malice, sweat breaking out on his forehead and running down from his hairline in small rivulets. I screamed out and felt the blood flow down my arm, soaking into the rolled up sleeve of the shirt that had been placed on my back.

  “This is missing something.”

  He walked away and came back, but I didn’t have a chance to see what was in his hand before he placed it on the wound on my belly. The searing pain caused me to cry out again, the curses coming from me inaudible as pain racked my body. Salt. He had dumped salt on the wound and rubbed it in to ensure I would scar if, by some miracle, I made it out alive. Which he would make sure didn’t happen. He had also come back with something else. It was something Hyde had enjoyed using on so many. When they had said they had borrowed some of my own tools from my room, I didn’t think they had brought this one along for the ride. Terror poured through my veins at the sight of the electric carving knife Hyde had most recently used to dismember Dax. The blue-eyed beauty that still haunted me. The buzzing sound of this very instrument never left my mind or my dreams for that matter.

  “How many have you killed with this? If you have to guess a number,” he probed as he admired it. His gazed moved back to me as he held the blade over my already marred stomach, placing his thumb on the button that would start the metal blade’s back and forth carving motion.

  I couldn’t speak. My vocal chords had ceased working at the sight of the knife hovering over my flesh. My eyes were wide with horror at the thought of this particular tool being used against me and the torture of just seeing it was enough for me to drop dead of my own doing without Mitch having to even touch me with it. My heart was beating so fast I thought I could have a heart attack at any moment. He placed it on my skin, so the cold metal barely grazed it, his thumb not once leaving the button and causing me to whimper in fear. He could do whatever he wanted to with that thing, and I’d be powerless to stop it while he laughed hysterically. He lifted his thumb and placed it lightly back on the button, turning to see my facial expression, and then smiled at what he saw.

  “Oh, your fear is too sweet,” he said as he moved the blade just over my skin. It wasn’t touching me, but I had seen Hyde kill just enough men with it to be terrified. “I’ve always wondered if fear was something you could taste in the blood.” His eyes met mine. “Can you?”

  Confusion. That was all I felt towards his question. That and fear of what he’d do if I answered in an unacceptable way. He walked up towards my head and slammed his open palm on the rail beside my head, causing me to flinch involuntarily.

  “Can you?” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

  I remained silent. I couldn’t answer his question. Wouldn’t. He wanted justification for what he was doing besides Kyle’s death, which he knew Kyle had deserved for what he had planned. He wanted to know he was doing the right thing and where there was doubt there was a weakness. Their plan was limited because Mitch didn’t fully believe in it, so he was fishing for information to change that. Yes, I had killed Kyle. I had killed men before him, but who was to say they weren’t all evil men like Kyle? Did Hyde discriminate in that way? It was hard to believe that Dax was a bad guy in any way, but I needed a happy thought of some kind even if it was fleeting. I needed to feel that that part of me had done the things it did for a reason other than just to kill. I had to believe that no matter how much of a lie it was.

  “I know what will get your attention,” he mused as the large electric blade hovered over me. “And this beauty is already plugged in.”

  He pressed the button, the little engine roaring to life as the blade hovered not even a foot above my head. It moved back and forth as if it was carving an invisible bird, but I knew better. It was just waiting for something to bite into. I wanted to be tough as nails. I truly wanted to be, needed to be, but I couldn’t stop the screaming as he moved it just a few inches closer and then lowered it down the length of my body, stopping right above my navel. He moved it again, but closer to my skin. It was now so close I could feel the air of its motion flowing over my skin. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to cause even more fear to roll within my belly and to threaten to spill over. He let it hover there for a moment and then turned it off, watching my expression change from one of sheer terror to one of relief as I let my head fall back on the bed. My breathing was heavy and ragged, and I detected a slight wheeze in it. I had no idea what it meant, but that didn’t matter at the moment. What mattered was what Mitch decided would happen next.

  “Now you understand, don’t you? You know the terror you’ve caused your victims,” he said as he walked away from me, dropping the electric knife to the floor.

  I heard it break, and pieces of it scatter on the ground, the metal blade within the plastic clanging to the floor with an echo. Tears sprang to my eyes again, falling with the gravity of my horror and disbelief. He was truly torturing me. He had cut me, yes, but his goal was pure psychological torture with just a touch of physical mixed in. It would be enough to drive any person mad. Not knowing whether he would hurt me or not was indeed beginning to make me jumpy no matter who was around if anyone at all. Even the darkness beyond had a face here, and I was starting to know it well. I wanted to answer him, so I had a decision to make. Would my answer do me any good, or would my bold statement only egg him on?

  “Is this a fear you understand, Mitch?” I asked. “Were you a victim once?”

  “Does that really matter to you?” he asked as he came out of the darkness with another syringe and a bottle of what I could only assume was rubbing alcohol. I knew he didn’t care about the sterility of my wounds so there was only one purpose it could serve at this point.

  “It does,” I replied.

  Mitch lifted the syringe to the dim light above me, the color of the liquid inside of it entirely different than what I had come to expect. The clear liquid of the drugs they had been giving me was replaced with a red, opaque liquid that horrified me to my core. He wanted me to see it. He wanted me to know that something new was coming, and he wanted me to be terrified by it. His plan was working and working well.

  “You know what this is, Blythe?” he asked as he seemed to admire the liquid within the syringe. �
��I’m sure you’ve seen it before.” He turned to look at me when I didn’t answer.

  I was shaking already. Nothing that would be injected in these circumstances could be good. Mitch grinned at me, making sure his evil poured into it and out onto the floor around me like a flood. His eyebrows rose with impatience, and he opened his mouth to speak again.

  “I’m going to take that as a no. Good,” he paused, “I get to educate you. It only makes torturing you even more fun. Not that it hasn’t already been highly enjoyable.”

  He flipped open the bottle of rubbing alcohol with his thumb and tipped it, letting a few small drops fall onto the wound in my belly, a stinging barrage of pain taking over quickly. My breath left me in a hiss. The pain subsided just as fast as it evaporated, but still left a lingering sense of the pain. He tipped the bottle again but this time, he squeezed the bottle, a river of rubbing alcohol pouring down into the open wound. The pain was sharp, but once it stopped it started again as the liquid moved to cover the places it hadn’t touched. The sting was intense, coming over and over as he continued to pour it on me, using at least half of the bottle before I decided I couldn’t take anymore.

  “Stop, stop, stop! Please, stop!” I cried out. “Please.” The last word was a whisper as he closed the bottle, practically beaming with pride at the torture he was able to impose on me.

  “Stop? Stop?” he yelled, coming to stand beside my head. “Did you stop when Kyle asked you to? Did you stop when any of your victims begged you to?”

  Tears were streaming down my face, causing my hair to stick to my face and neck. I couldn’t take any more pain. I couldn’t take any more fear. I wanted to be strong, but all I wanted was for this torment to end and I didn’t care how. Even if it meant meeting my maker a lot sooner than planned. Whatever would come to greet me with that release would surely be better than this.