After we're done, I'm surprised that we head back to the basement. Even more surprised when I see that there's a new prisoner inside instead of the dead one. This one is pretty much alive and terrified.
The Pakhan explains that the ball is in our court now, specifically mine, since Vlad probably wouldn't bat an eye at killing the man—at least from what I'd heard.
Father lowers his head to whisper in my ear.
"Don't disappoint me, or you'll regret it."
With a slightly aggressive pat on my back, both father and Pakhan exit the room, leaving me with Vlad, my only audience. I look at the table and then at the prisoner, trying to make my body move and do whatever father wants me to do. But I can't.
I pick up a knife and stare at it for a second, willing myself to do this, knowing what will happen if I don't. Vlad takes a step forward and tilts his head, studying me.
"You're not going to do it, are you?" His voice is just as empty as his eyes. There's not a trace of emotion in it.
He doesn't wait for me to answer, swiping the blade from my hand and casually walking towards the prisoner.
Whereas before the prisoner had looked terrified, mostly because father and the Pakhan had been inside too, now he looks smug, probably not intimidated by the sight of two kids with a knife.
But not a second later, blood spurts out from the man's cheek. Vlad is wielding the knife as if he's had years of training. His hand moves and he makes a few more incisions in the man's cheek in the form of a square, effectively cutting a sizeable chunk of skin and revealing both the man's mandible and his maxilla. The rag that had been stuffed inside his mouth to keep him from crying out is also visible now.
Vlad's features are set in consternation as he regards his work. He has the piece of flesh in his hand and he brings it closer to his nose, inhaling the scent. That's just... wrong.
His smile widens suddenly and removing the rag from the man's mouth, he stuffs the flesh in instead.
"Eat." He commands, but the prisoner just looks at him with wide eyes, wildly shaking his head. Vlad's blade trails down the prisoner's torso, stopping at his stomach. The prisoner stills. Vlad goes even lower, and the threat to his crotch makes him grind his teeth against the flesh. The chewing is reluctant at first, but Vlad keeps encouraging him with a nip here, a nip there.
Vlad looks entranced as he stares at the man's jaw work its way around the piece of flesh.
"Haven't you ever wondered..." Vlad starts, his eyes glossy with excitement—the most I'd ever seen from him, "how chewing looks from the outside? We always do it... so naturally. And yet, so many forces are at work."
"Stop!" Vlad commands and the prisoner stops chewing. Vlad looks pensive for a moment, before taking the rag once more and stuffing it inside the mouth of the prisoner.
"What...?" I blurt out, my first words since we've been here. Vlad's knife is already trailing around the man's throat. He seems extremely focused on the position of the incisions. He tries to cut, but the prisoner moves, so withdraws his knife, shaking his head.
"You," he points at me, "hold him!"
I hesitate for a moment, but end up walking across the room and planting my hands on the man's shoulders, trying to keep him in place.
A small smile tugs at Vlad's lips, but it's immediately gone. He's once again focused on his incisions, cutting from the man's Adam's apple downward. This time, his cut is the shape of a rectangle.
He removes the skin, but scowls as he notices there's still more muscle tissue in the way. He stares at it for a second.
"What are you trying to do?" I have to ask.
"Want to see how he swallows." He murmurs, bringing his bloody hand to his chin. He taps his foot impatiently and I feel the man flinch. I tighten my grip.
Vlad's eyes light up. He takes the rag out and gives him again a piece of flesh to chew on.
"Eat!"
The prisoner does as he's told, slowly munching on the piece of skin. Just as he's about to swallow, Vlad puts his hand up. "Stop!"
With a sudden swipe of the knife, he tears a hole in the man's throat. "Now!" He commands.
I don't know what's happening, except there's blood coursing from the man's throat. He squirms a few more times before he becomes limp under my hold.
"Shit!" Vlad curses, looking decades older than his actual age. If I didn't know what he looked like... I could have sworn that no child could do something like this.
Vlad's hand tightens on the knife, and his features stretch over his face in anger. I blink. In no time he's on top of the already dead man, swinging his knife in and out. I take a step back.
He's stabbing and stabbing, blood spattered on his face.
"Vlad!" I call out, but he doesn't answer, digging deeper into the man's flesh.
"Vlad!" I yell, and somehow he snaps out of it. He stands up, throws the knife on the ground and looks at me as if dazed.
There's blood on his face. He lifts his hand, and with one finger he swipes some red liquid and brings it to his mouth, sucking.
My eyes widen at this display.
He's not normal... he can't be normal.
The door opens, and father and the Pakhan come in. They take in the scene before them, and they immediately zero in on Vlad.
"Misha, take your brother out." The Pakhan orders, and a teenage boy comes in to drag Vlad away. Before he can grab him, however, Vlad leans in and whispers something in Misha's ear that has him blench.
Vlad lets himself out, and I'm left with father, and his obvious disappointment.
"What did I tell you, boy?" His eyes blaze with fury.
"I don't want to kill anyone." I say, my voice full of false confidence.
"You don't want to kill anyone?" He asks me, narrowing his eyes. He then opens the door, taking one guard by the collar and making him kneel inside the room.
"You didn't want to kill someone who clearly wronged us. Let's see how you feel about someone who is innocent." He kicks the guard to the floor. He drags me by the hand until I'm in front of the guard, and places a gun in my hand.
"Kill him!" He commands. "Don't embarrass me!" He hisses before closing my fingers over the gun and pointing it towards the guard.
"Kill!" He yells in my ear, but all I can do is shake my head.
I don't want this. I never wanted this.
"Kill, or else, your mother might not sleep well tonight, nor will that thing inside of her." He says, and I can feel my skin crawl. Mother is eight-months pregnant. Surely he wouldn't... he wouldn't kill his own child.
But then I look at him. He would... he would kill anyone.
He still senses my hesitation, so he continues to describe in great detail what he will do to her.
"And when her stomach is wide open, I'll take that thing out..." I can't hear this anymore.
I squeeze my eyes shut and press the trigger. I'm jerked back by the pistol firing, and I see the bullet hit the target.
More blood.
The floor is becoming soaked in red.
"I knew you had it in you, boy."
Do I?
It seems I do...
MOTHER IS IN LABOR. It's been a few hours since she started, and I can hear her screams now and then. I don't know what's happening, but father didn't want to send her to a hospital. Instead, he brought a doctor to care for her at home. I don't know how much he's doing for her, though, because she doesn't seem fine to me.