Daylight by Verbayne +Demonata-Freak (best large ereader .txt) 📕

I shriek and realize my grip on his neck, his blood dripping down my chin. “Dustin!” I yell, grabbing his limp face. “Dustin! Wake up, please, wake up!” I repeat, slapping his face lightly, begging him to wake up. I press my ear against his chest and find a weak heart beat.Suddenly the door flies open, and Clair barges in. Her eyes connect to me and Dustin, worry seeping from her gaze at just the look of fear on mine. “Help me!”

Winding my fingers through Red's hand I smiled at the three broken fingers. A small whimper escaped his lips drawing my attention from the mangled hand. Glistening trails of tears rolled down his cheeks, eyes turning red from all the crying he had been doing. I wasn't sure how long I had been breaking parts on him, I lost myself there for a little while in the fun. Blinking at the trembling Hunter I leaned over him, pressing my upper body across his slightly bloodied one.

"Want to say anything that would interest me?"

There was a sharp intake of breath but where I expected words there was only silence, defiant eyes glaring at me in their place. Sighing I flicked his middle finger. He shrieked, the digit flopping on his hand. I must have torn the ligaments and separated the joint without realizing it. I sighed again, pulling away from the trembling Hunter.

Frowning at the man stretched out on Saoirse's kitchen table I crossed my arms. Just thinking of her name made me aware of her. A sudden wind blew across my face, stretching though my body down into my chest. I mentally pushed the sensation aside. Whatever Saoirse was doing was none of my concern, my eyes fell from the door to the man, but Red was.

"You know, this is the most fun I've had in a long time." His face crumpled as I ran my fingers along his jaw line. Instead of defiance he showed me fear. It sent a thrill down my spine. "I wish we could continue to get to know each other, but I have a deadline to meet."

I didn't think he understood where I was going with the conversation. Leaving him I went to the kitchen, searching the drawers for something that would replace my normal equipment. I took the first sleek, sharp, looking knife I could find. It was a paring knife, dull by my standards, and small, but just as efficient for my plan. I went back to Red, flipping the knife in the air.

I caught it by the handle and flipped it again, glancing at Red as it landed in my palm. His eyes widened, then went flat. He was getting worse at hiding his fear. That little bit of knowledge made my lips curl into a sadistic smile. Holding the blade gently between my hands I ran the edge over my thumb, testing it.

A thin line of blood oozed over the tiny cut. Licking it my eyes flicked to Red's face. He flinched. My smile widened. If he had any idea about what was running though my head he would have been doing more than just flinching.

Flicking my wrist I sent the knife flying across the room. A dull thud echoed in the silence as the blade embedded itself inches from his family jewels. Eyes on his face I crossed the room, my hips swinging seductively. He paled, jerking away from me where ever I touched him. Crawling up on the table I jerked the knife out of the wood below so that I could straddle him.

"What," he chocked, swallowed his fear, and tried again to speak through gritted teeth. "What are you going to do with that?"

I laughed at him, a sudden booming sound that made him jump under me. "Well, if you really want to know. I might just," I rested the blade on his thigh, "cut something off." The tip pressed against his nether region. He shivered.

"Please." He whimpered.

I leaned forward, brushing my hair behind one ear. The gesture made the knife dig in more. I felt his body draw away from the blade. "What did you say? I didn't catch that, something about why Hunters are gathering in towns?"

He whimpered again, trying to wiggle out from under me and away from the blade. I took the opportunity to reposition the knife so that instead of jabbing at his balls I was at the best angle to slice something else off if I really wanted to. The feel of the sharp edge so up close and personal to his business made him still. I tried again, with a more direct question this time.

"Why are the Hunter's gathering in large groups, Red?"

"Purge," he breathed, voice barely above a whisper, "another Purge."

I frowned, pushing the knife against him harder because I was pissed off. He actually squeaked. I stared at him, easing off the pressure. "What else, Red, where are you gathering?" I paused thinking of something better. "Under who are you gathering?"

"Abandoned cities, from the old times."

He didn't answer my second question. Did that mean there wasn't one big leader? No, Hunters need one all powerful leader if they gathered like this. Otherwise they kill each other. He didn't answer, but he didn't deny it either.

"Who is gathering you?" I asked again.

His eyes flicked to the door. "No one."

I dug the knife in until he screamed for me to stop. I drew away, straightening my spine and driving the knife into the table where there was room. Blood stained his pants, eyes rolling back in his head, breath coming in quick pants, he whimpered prayers for me to stop, to spare him. I hadn't cut it off, but I had gotten halfway there.

"Don't bullshit me, Red, I don't have the patients for it." He trembled. Grabbing his hair I yanked him up off the table as far as the restraints would allow. "Who leads you?" I snarled.

He shook his head. "No, no, not that. I won't tell you that."

"So there is someone." He showed me frightened eyes. "Who?"

He shook his head, whispering no over and over again. I threw him down on the table. The last remaining traces of the smile I had given him before slipped from my face. A coldness fell over me, all emotions washed away in the defining silence that filled my head. I had one thought, and one thought alone. Face, I wanted to see his face bloodied and raw before me.

Yanking the knife from the wood once more I slammed the muscular man's head into the table. Digging my nails into his face I pressed the blade into his right cheek. He bucked under me. I made the first cut, his jerky movements making it deeper then I wanted. I heard him shuck in a lung full of air, readying to scream.

Blood welled in the gash, flowing over my fingers as I repositioned the blade closer to the surface. The first sound of terror eased from Red's lips as I drug the knife across his cheek. When the tip of the blade passed over his eye the small scream turning into a full blown wail. I leaned back, the loosened skin rolling onto the floor, my head pounding from the force behind his cries. Rolling his face to the side with the blade I used my free hand to cover his mouth.

He screamed himself horse against my hand as I lowered my face over his trembling body. When my own breath wash back against my face I stopped. The raw wound of his cheek sat inches from my lips, blood rolling down his neck just out of reach. My tongue flicked out, catching a few drops of his rich blood. The sound of Red's whimpering made me draw back enough to see his face.

Tears rolled down his face, mixing with the blood on his right side. Vaguely I remembered telling Saoirse that torturing him would be wrong, that he was only a kid. But that had been before, been another more sane me. The me that looked down at the exposed muscles and jaw bone of the nineteen year old male was different. Knowing that I had inflicted such damage to him, broken both his hands, knees, both major bones in his legs, and dislocated his one shoulder, I could still look at him and want to do more.

Pressing my face into his hair I purred in his ear. "Want to give me a name now?" I released his head, allowing him enough room to talk. He whimpered but never uttered a word as he cried. My lips twitched, my version of a smile once I entered this state. "Good, I would have been sad if this was all the fun we got to have."

Raising my weapon I set it against his forehead. He screamed before I even drew blood. When I finally made the second cut he screamed so loudly his voice cracked until he was merely staring at me with his mouth agape. My eyes lifted from his agonized face to the blood pouring down into his eyes. I focused on that blood.

Focused on the way it oozed and swelled from the wound. When I had a flap of his skin peeled back over his face I felt myself go. I let myself get lost in the feel of his flesh giving as I carved him into one large, open, bleeding, unrecognizable, wound. Silence filled the room as I flicked the last bit of skin off the table. That lack of noise, of pure agonized screams, brought me back.

Blinking I glanced down at Red. He was motionless on the table. The front of my shirt was soaked with his blood, the cloth sticking to me as the crimson liquid cooled. Pressing my finger tips against his neck I checked for a pulse. It was there.

I cursed myself for getting letting the fun of skinning someone alive get to me again. Pulling on his hair I raised his head up off the table. His eyes stared at me, his eyelids somewhere on the floor with the rest of his face. I slapped him.

"Wake up." Silence.

Flipping the knife in my hand I slammed it down into his thigh. It was like I had flipped a switch. Red rose off the table, a scream tearing from his throat. I slammed him back down on the table and he cried out again. Wrapping one hand around his throat I squeezed. His body instantly stilled, eyes focused on my face.

"Name?" I asked.

A name forced its way from his blood stained lips. "Gregory Wrigth."

I smiled. "Good boy, now here's your reward."

I slammed his head into the table. His eyes went unfocused, body limp. I sat there for a minute or two staring at his unconscious face. How much time did we have? Could I afford to play just a little longer?

My eyes flickered to the on the wall. Three hours had passed since Saoirse had handed the Hunter over to me. It would be another three before nightfall. I glanced back at the Hunter. If what I had gathered from him was right then I