Page 60 of Niko's Printsessa
He stutters, his eyes following me as I walk down the line of knives hanging on the wall. I pick one up, check its sharpness and hold its weight in my hand, before replacing it and moving on to the next one. I can feel his eyes following my every move.
Good.
Alek snickers, “Haven’t even nicked him and he’s pissed himself.”
I choose my knives and approach the gurney, laying them down on the sterile metal table, one a surgeon might use. I slide a small knife across his polo shirt, barely grazing his skin.
“I don’t like repeating myself. Do you know why you’re here?”
“Na…..no, no!”
“Becca Sokolov ring a bell?”
His eyes widen but instead of the begging I expected, he takes another route. “I was her professor. We dated. That’s it.”
I look at Alek and he nods, “Never leaving this room, Niko.”
“Let’s try again.” I slice down the center of his torso, just breaking the skin, the beautiful color of red trickles down and he cries out in pain. This is going to be fun.
“We dated! I…I didn’t do anything, I promise. She wanted me.”
I place the bloody knife on the table and select one with a serrated edge. “Do you know why I like this knife so much, Alek?”
“Why, Boss?”
“You see these,” I point to the jagged edges. “It’s like six knives in one, and the best part?” I smile wickedly at the professor, “is when I slide it out slowly, making sure you feel each and every cut.”
Alek snorts, knowing this skit well. “I wonder what happens if you twist it as you pull?”
“Good question.”
He begins to squirm, which I was hoping for. I stab a smaller knife into the top of his hand, making sure to pierce the thin wood strategically placed and separating him from the metal bed. The knife takes hold, keeping my victim’s hand secured to the wood.
I make quick work of the other hand while he screams in agony.
“Shush, professor. Crying won’t help. It didn’t help Becca, did it?”
He vomits on himself and Alek tsks. “Weak stomachs, hate that. I bet you can’t handle spicey foods either?” He asks our victim like we’re tossing back beers at the local bar.
I laugh and return to my selection of knives, letting the professor take in everything around him. Me, Alek, the knives, the pain, his blood and his inevitable death. I’ve never been this bloodthirsty, and I’ve murdered many men, but this is as personal as it gets. When he harmed Becca he harmed me.
“Alek, what do you think about men that cheat on their wives?”
“Cowards.”
“And professors that use their authority to sexually blackmail students?”
“Cockroaches.”
“And dirty old men who rape innocent young women?”
“Deserve to be raped up the ass with that serrated knife.”
“I couldn't agree more.”
As the Butcher, I know exactly where to stab and slice, and how deep and long, to injure my victim without immediate death. You could say it’s my specialty. So that’s what I did with Professor Small Dick. At one point he passed out so Alek and I played cards while we waited for him to come to. His screamsand pleas were sweet music and the smell of coppery blood like fragrant roses. In the end, he was unrecognizable and the finale was that serrated knife in his ass.
Alek and I stare at his sliced body. “Incinerator?”