Fingers tripped along my skin. Tender they were, and soft.
I resisted though, turned deeper into sleep.
No, I will not wake.
A voice slipped through my mind. Silky it was, but menacing, too.
I’m imagining this. He’s not so suave.
Please don’t make me look.
A heated breath brushed by my skin. It tickled my temples and lifted tendrils of my hair.
Flushed, I floundered. The breeze seared the sweat at my temples.
I tossed myself and turned.
Though my eyes were shut against the light, he knew he had me.
I was present once more. The work could begin again.
Let me pretend, I thought. I pleaded. I raged in my head.
Please, let me pretend.
I heard the knives before I felt them. They were cold against my too-hot skin.
I nearly welcomed them, then.
Yes please, let’s go back to the knives.
I opened my eyes.
I saw him there, hunkered over me.
His bulging eyes peered at me from a misshapen face, and a protruding tongue licked at lips too thick.
He took his time.
He carved me well.
Me, his masterpiece, he said. My loveliness would transcend his hideousness, he said.
A small cut here. A little slash there.
He kept me plugged to the machine. Then I would not struggle, he said. I would not ruin the canvas.
A little more here, and a little more there. Some salt and some sand to widen the gaps.
He sang and cooed over me as he worked.
Give me a mirror, I said. I want to admire.
The hunched little man snorted and he cackled.
Anticipation robbed him of speech.
He crabbed among the detritus strewn about and held it out.
That shard – that blessed scrap.
I lifted my eyes. I stared at the thing I had become.
The intricate design, the color he’d rubbed into the wounds.
I was a tapestry of pain, an intricate engraving worthy of the highest king.
I was beautiful.
My breath escaped me with a sigh.
I blessed my little grotesque with a grateful smile. To destroy this would be cruel.
One quick jab, right at the throat. Yes, that would do it. That would allow me to sleep once more.
I was fast. Too fast for him.
Stunted fingers grabbed at me. They slipped and flailed at my blood as it flowed.
He howled. I gurgled. He screamed, enraged.
The symphony of my release echoed in the night.
Written in response to the Week of September 8th Prompt: Friday the 13th Horror