Chapter 228
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I opened my eyes to a blur of white walls and bright lights. Confusion and fear mingled in my mind
as I tried to grasp where I was. My heart raced as I attempted to move, only to find myself
restrained in a chair. Panic surged through me, causing my breaths to quicken.
“What’s going on?” I demanded, the words sounding hollow and desperate in the sterile room.
Bruce, a man I once thought was a friend, loomed over me with a cruel smile etched across his
face. Ste stood beside him, her expression cold and detached. They were people I had trusted,
but the look in their eyes now sent shivers down my spine.
Without a word, Ste switched on a camera. The red light blinked ominously as she directed it
toward me. Fear gripped my chest tighter as I realized the gravity of the situation.
“What is this?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. The answer formed in my mind before either of
them spoke it aloud.
“There are sick individuals out there who pay to see someone like you suffer,” Ste replied, her
voice devoid of any remorse.
My heart sank. Horror swept over me as I understood their twisted intentions. I was a pawn in their
grotesque game–a live show for some depraved audience hungry for violence.
Bruce leaned in close, his eyes glinting with a malevolent gleam, “You have no idea the kind of
demand there is for this. People have been waiting for your debut.”
I struggled against the restraints, my breaths shallow and rapid. “You can’t do this!” I pleaded, but
my words fell on deaf ears.
He chuckled darkly. “Oh, we can, Evie. And we will.”
Dread settled heavily in my stomach as Bruce continued, his voice taunting and cruel. He outlined
the torturous fate they had nned for me, relishing the fear that painted my face.
“You’re going to die a slow and painful death,” he sneered. “But first, we’ll have a little fun. I’m
thinking we start with an arm. Or maybe a leg? What do you think, Ste?”
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Ste’s lips curved into a chilling smile. “Surprise me, Bruce.”
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My mind raced, trying to find a way out of this nightmare. “You can’t just mutte me!” I protested,
my voice trembling. “This is insane!”
But they onlyughed, their amusement fueled by my terror. Bruce brandished a knife, tracing it
against my skin with a sickening delight. The cold steel pressed against my throat, a silent threat
that sent a shiver down my
spine.
“You’re going to look so pretty covered in red,” he murmured, his breath hot against my cheek.
I struggled against the restraints, desperation lending strength to my limbs. Fear and anger mingled
within me, urging me to fight, to find a way out of this hell. But as I strained against the bonds,
reality settled in the odds were stacked against me, and my captors reveled in their power.
Tears welled in my eyes as I realized the true depth of their depravity. I was trapped, helpless
against their twisted desires.
“You’re monsters,” I whispered, my voice cracking with emotion.
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“Monsters? No, darling,” Bruce said with a twisted grin. “We’re just giving the people what they
want.”
My breath caught in my throat as he pulled a knife out from behind him, still grinning. “Maybe I could
y you first. Have you watch the whole thing as I drag this knife down that perfect little face of
yours.”
My heart raced, terror wing at my chest. “Y–You wouldn’t…
He approached me, wielding the knife with a sinister glint in his eye. My heart pounded, my muscles
tensing as he pressed the de against my neck. “Watch me,” he hissed.
The camera continued to whir, capturing the horror etched on my face as my captors reveled in
their sick game. I braced myself for the pain toe, praying for a miracle that seemed out of reach
in this stark, white–walled room filled with cameras and unspeakable tools of torture.
My eyes flickered to Ste, her callousness chilling as she casually scrolled through her phone. Her
eyes were fixed on the screen, seemingly detached from the horrors unfolding in front of her.
“Knives are boring,” she remarked casually. “Our viewers want something more… creative to
torment Evie with.”
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Bruce shot her a sharp re. “Then what are you suggesting, Ste?”
Ste scanned the room, then nodded at a box in the corner. “What’s in there?”
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A shiver ran down my spine as I watched Bruce’s expression grow tense. He shifted his eyes to me
for a brief second, and if I didn’t know any better, I would say it was hesitation. But it was quickly
overshadowed by hispliance with Ste’s disturbing desires.
Bruce eventually ambled toward the corner of the room and dug through the box, retrieving bottles
filled with harsh–looking chemical mixtures. He grunted as he hauled one bottle out of the box and
began prowling toward me with it, a look of promise in his eyes.
“What is that?” I gasped, struggling against my ropes.
“These chemicals would feel like hell if they touched your skin,” Bruce warned, holding the bottles
up for the
camera.
Ste’s attention snapped back to the impending torture, her eyes lighting up with a perverse
excitement. “That’s what the viewers want to see,” she remarked, her voice filled with an eerie
satisfaction. “The money and bets are rolling in now. Go on, Bruce”
My heart hammered against my chest as panic threatened to engulf me entirely. The situation grew
more dire with each passing moment. The realization that they were profiting from my suffering
made bile rise in my throat.
Bruce’s hand trembled as he grasped the bottles, his eyes darting between the chemicals and me.
Was there a chance, a glimmer of mercy beneath the sadistic fa?ade? I held onto that sliver of
hope, my eyes locked on his.
“You don’t have to do this,” I pleaded, my voice strained with desperation. “Please, Bruce, don’t let
them turn you into this monster.”
His gaze flickered with conflict, a fleeting moment of hesitation. I saw it–the turmoil within him, the
struggle to reconcile the humanity that remained buried beneath the veneer of cruelty. For an
instant, I dared to believe that he might stop, that he might defy Ste’s orders.
But the grip of terror and maniption was too strong. The mask of hesitation melted away,
reced by a hardened resolve. He turned his gaze away, shutting himself off from any semnce
of remorse.
“You’ll love it, Evie,” Bruce taunted, meeting my gaze. “It really clears the skin.”
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“Get that away from me!” I jerked back, the legs of the chair screeching along the cemented floor as
it shifted
with me. “Bruce!”
He chuckled. “You know, the more your scream, the more enjoyable you make this for me.“”
He snapped a few photos, likely capturing the sick memories he sought
t to treasure.
My mind raced, searching for a way out of this nightmare. As Bruce approached with the jug, I acted
on puré instinct, swinging my leg with all my might. My foot connected with his side, catching him off
guard, causing the jug to topple and spill its contents.
Bruce let out a guttural hiss of pain as the harsh liquid made contact with his skin. The phone fell
from his hands as he staggered back, clutching at his burning flesh. Panic flickered in his eyes as
the skin bubbled.
“You little..”
“Shit!” Ste shouted, rushing over to Bruce as he clutched his bubbling skin. She seemed stuck
between continuing the stream and rushing to help Bruce. I heard her phone ping multiple times,
likely viewers relishing the violence.
“Shut it off!” Bruce screamed at her, eyes zing. “Shut it off!”
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