“David,” I said softly, my voice almost tender. “Thank you for this book. It’s been very useful. The book says if a person’s spine is injured, they’ll be paralyzed for life, never able to stand again.”
Standing, I moved behind him, my hand trailing lightly along his neck. “It seems to be... just right here,” I murmured.
Before he could respond, I pressed the knife’s tip against the base of his spine and drove it in. His scream tore through the room, a piercing sound that echoed endlessly. His body collapsed, lifelessly limp, a heap of flesh and shattered nerves.
But it wasn’t enough. Ten years of pain, eight years of torment demanded more. Raising the knife again, I slashed at his legs, severing his tendons with a brutal finality. Blood poured from the wound, soaking the floor in a gruesome tableau.
***
The faint sound of voices outside snapped me back to reality. Neighbors, drawn by the noise, were gathering. My time was running out.
I let the knife slip from my fingers, the clang as it hit the floor reverberating through the room. Walking to the door, I opened it wide, letting the stench of blood drift into the air.