Her head is whipped to the side as Jake with no warning slaps her across the face. It stung, he swung hard enough to knock some of the spit out of her mouth. Body pushing up against the chair, a yell leaving her lips. Her wrists yank up against the slap, which causes more pain to shoot through her body. Eyelids squeezed tight, the tears wasted no time in falling down her skin.
Not a moment later Jake grips her throat, Amelia choking with the tight grasp he has on her. He doesn't stop, his grip getting tighter and tighter. The air flow lessened the more he squeezed. The tears flow profusely from her eyes, the gasping for air becoming louder. He's grunting as he squeezes, growling through the hoarse breaths.
Death was teasing her, leading her on. If she was going to die, it should be done quickly. Get it over with, not feeling the tortuous emotions of her life flashing behind her eyes. Amelia had yet to see the flying images of life she got to experience, or the white light. Just the pain, the closing of her airways.
"I gave ya everythin'?! This fuckin' career you have, would never have happened without me!" Jake shouts in her face, shaking her throat in his hands. His motions have her gagging on top of it all, he treated her like she was a ragdoll. "I did it all!"
A surprise comes when he lets go, Amelia dropping her head forward to gasp for air as it fills her lungs. Sweet relief of being able to breathe, yet stuck in the situation alive. The agent heaves, coughing with her head held down. She spits, before she finally catches her breath entirely.
Her head tilts up quickly, Jake now infront of her with a large knife. Running his finger across the sharp edge, he wastes no time in coming behind her chair again. Forcefully grabbing onto her hair, yanking it back. The knife is placed only mere inches away from her neck, Amelia can see the glistening under her chin. Trying her best to tilt her head back to avoid the blade, he only pushes it closer.
Jake laughs, "You think I can't take it all away, this pretty little picture of a life you think ya deserve?!" He pushes the knife onto her neck, breaking part of the skin.
Amelia groans, squeezing her eyes tight from the pain. Blood drips down her neck, soaking into parts of her clothes. "You deserve what I want ya to fuckin' have, nothin' but pain and agony! Haha, what I had for so long!"
Broken, broken beyond salvation.
"You're sick." Even with her eyes closed, her facial expressions showed no fear. Trying her hardest to keep the emotions at bay. She couldn't show her fear, not if she wanted to get out of here alive.
The knife pushes deeper, the blood pulsating from the side of her throat. "I'm sick?! I could make ya permanently smile, I could do whatever I want with ya!" His sick cackle pierces her ears, squeezing her fists tighter.
She expected him to slit her throat right here and now, but the cold metal disappeared from her senses. The footsteps catch her attention, then feeling the leather of his gloves on her cheek.
"My beautiful, still little doll. I'm sorry I hurt ya like that." The words are a quiet whisper, he sounded like he was sincerely sorry.
Amelia opened her eyes slowly to look at him. The expression on his face matched the tone, but she knew it was nothing but a facade. Another mask, a way to present himself as kind and loving. She didn't fall for it, she would never fall for it again.
The silence falls for a minute, before she speaks. "What is the point of all this.."
Displeased with her words it seems his expression turns back to cold, void. Kneeling down to her eye level, he stares at her. A stare contest ensues, the terrifying smile pulling back onto his lips. Shaking his head, he laughs amused.
"What's the point?" His hand points to his deformed face. "Do ya see my face, Amelia? My deformity, my hauntin' past?"
His face was haunting, she wished she hadn't seen it at all. A reminder of how she failed, how she couldn't even do one thing right. His entire existence was a constant reminder of the mistakes she made. With love, with naiveness, with his presence altogether. Jake was a nightmare, her worst nightmare.
Large hands slap onto her thighs, gripping tightly. It catches her unprepared, wincing and squeezing her eyes shut. So many parts of her body were in pain. From the blunt trauma to her head, down to the swelling and bruising of her ankle. She wanted it to stop, just to have it all stop.
"Look at me, Amelia."
She shakes her head, silence follows.
Tightly her jaw is gripped with strong force, pulling her forward. Wrists rubbing against the metal handcuffs, increasing the pain once again. Her emerald eyes shoot open, staring face to face with him. He was angry, teeth gritting against one another.
"Look at me you fuckin' whore! Look at me!"
It hit the nerve she was trying to keep covered. Tears filling up her eyelids, leaking as her stare softened towards him. Not in affection, but in disappointment.
Disappointment of the path he took with the second chance of life he had gotten. One time long ago he was kind, loving, caring, protective of her. Now he had become a monster, the enemy. Amelia's body shook, her bottom lip quivering. Sniffling, just staring up at him with nothing to say. What could she say, her expression said it all.
He wasn't the man he fell in love with, she wished she never fell in love with him at all. She knew a part of her longed for the man he once was, but he would never be that man again. The man who wanted to turn his life around never existed, it was all a front.
Amelia sadly chuckles, shaking her head. "And to think..I thought I loved you."
That young junior was downright naive to have fallen into his arms. She tried so hard to fight off his charm, kept him away even when her heart craved him. Falling into his temptations after a heavy chase, keeping him by her side.
A curse, her entire family's bloodline was a curse. From grandmother, to her mother, and now her. She had to be the worst of the chain, those two had peace of death. Here she still was, crying silently in front of a man who couldn't even feel emotion. Her heart was torn piece by piece by him, even after five years.
"I never listened to anyone else.. I thought I could have a happy life with someone I admired." Normality was never going to be achievable, she knew that. Yet the idea of a never achieved life had her just as emotional as the loss of her ex lover's mind. He had lost his way, and she had tried to create her own.
Jake followed her down the path she built front scratch and easily destroyed it behind him.
He stares at her emotionless, even with the streaming tears down her skin. "I was horribly wrong, to think I could change what kind of monster you kept inside of you." Amelia whispers, air caught in her throat.
That man was a monster through and through, even behind the masks he held. A petty criminal turned serial killer. How could life be so cruel to her, how could God keep a man like this living and breathing.
Perhaps it was her punishment, for not dying in that abandoned field. For not letting Jake take her out, even if his twisted emotions kept his itchy finger on the trigger for longer. To suffer in his arms, until she took her own life.
Jake huffs, forcefully pushing her face back as he lets go. He leans over to grab another knife. Waving in front of her face, his face forming a scowl. Eyebrows pushed over his eyes, pointing the knife towards her.
"Ya know how much I fuckin' hate foul words. Yet ya wanna disrespect me?" He leans forward, the smile now pulling on his lips again. "Say you're sorry, and I won't punish ya."
Amelia leans forward towards him, her tears still falling down her face. Mascara smeared down her cheeks, a sour look on her face. The emerald hues of her eyes shoot daggers at him.
"Go to Hell." She spits in his face, leaning closer to get into his face. "I should've wasted a bullet on you, instead of your fucking father."
Her father may have killed her mother, but his offspring was ten times worse than he ever was. They both had crazy genes, both obsessed with women who wanted nothing to do with them. Father and son should have been six feet in the ground together, in graves no one would ever find them. No one mourns the crazy son of a bitches like them.
That hits a nerve in his expression, wiping the saliva from his face. He snarls, gripping the handle of the knife tighter. "Wrong fuckin' answer."
[MENTION OF GORE BELOW.]
She's unable to prepare as the knife is swung up, plunging into her left thigh. It had to be the worst pain she had ever felt in her entire life, a blood curdling scream leaving her lips. Screaming, crying, and panicking filled her entire body as she watched the red liquid begin to pour from her leg. Like a waterfall it goes over the side of the chair, drenching on the stone cold floor. No was going to hear her screams, tilting her head back to try to pull herself away from the pain.
God was one sick son of a bitch if this was her punishment.
The maniacal laughing of Jake begins, getting louder and louder the more she screams. Her entire body was on fire, her heart crashing against the surface of her chest. She could feel nothing but the agonizing pain of the knife digging into her muscles, the tendons being split in two. Ripped so easily, pants soaking in her own blood.
He claps in glee, laughing at the bloody display. "That's right, scream for me! Scream, no one can hear ya!"
She can feel herself slipping, it was becoming dark again.
"Scream until your dying breath, Amelia!"
The pain was too much, the blood loss was having her head dizzy. Was she going to die, or pass out like she had before? She didn't know, she was terrified. If this was how she was going to die, it was deserved.
"Scream!"
She knew it wasn't that simple.
Her head drops down once more, the world covering itself in darkness once more. Trapped like a stray animal, bleeding all over the floor. If she wasn't going to die now, then God had one cruel sense of humor. Jake would tear her limb from limb until he got what he wanted.
Sweet revenge, no matter how long it took. That notion was the scariest part of all. Death in her mind would be much sweeter.
Life was never so sweet, harsh reality was always sour.