"I hope you know why I'm doing this to you." Zhian held my jaw in one hand, keeping my head in place as the bloody blade held by his other hand scraped over my jaw. "It would be unfair if you didn't."
Not a word left my mouth as I continued to kneel limply, releasing nothing but laboured breaths to express the discomfort of the blade slicing over the thin skin of my ribs.
Zhian had left me alone for a very long time before coming back with the brilliant idea of using my body as a blank canvas. The issue was, he always wanted to make art in ways that left permanent reminders.
I knew why he was doing so many things to me. He'd evened the score of my father killing his brothers a long time before getting to this point. At this stage, he was torturing me for fun and pleasure and he'd remind me of the fact at every given opportunity.
