Bound

Three

Ananke found herself pinned to the icy cement after her left roundhouse connected with Frank’s head.

“You still think this is a game, don’t you?” he snarled. Frank ground her face into the floor, bloodying her nose. “Five weeks I’ve been training you and still you deny me respect!”

“I’m sorry, Master!” Ananke gasped. “I was trying to hit the bag!”

“You’d be a lot sorrier if you gotten me during target practice…I would’ve taken out more than your nose!”

Frank eased off her back.

“Up, Mouse!” He threw a towel at her as Ananke struggled to her feet. “Go back and get cleaned up. Be ready by the time I return.”

~*~

Two hours later, Ananke had showered and was waiting patiently on the motel bed. Given that Frank always made her sleep on the floor, Ananke was certain that he’d box her ears for this…but she wasn’t about to watch television from one of the uncomfortable chairs. The door unlocked, but Ananke paid her captor no mind until he turned off the television.

“I shouldn’t have to order you to get up every time,” he muttered, yanking her to her feet. “You should rise as soon as I enter.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ananke replied.

Frank slapped her before she could add “Master” and stepped back to take a look. As he desired, Ananke had changed into a set of burgundy scrubs after her shower. She glared at him through the entire inspection, causing her to miss his next words.

“Pull your hair back.”

“What?”

Cursing, Frank spun her around and swiftly pulled her long, blonde hair into a ponytail.

“I want you to stay completely silent,” he instructed. “Do not speak unless I address you. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Master.”

Satisfied, Frank took a pair of leather cuffs from the dresser, swiftly buckling them around Ananke’s wrists. When they were locked into place, he produced a chain to wrap around her waist.

“Let’s go.”

Only when he locked the opposite end of the chain around one end of the slab did Ananke divine his intentions.

“Put these on,” Frank ordered, passing her a visor and a box of latex gloves. “You’re going to assist me tonight.”

Ananke hesitated as he turned to prepare his equipment, but then thought better of it. Their agreement was that Frank would not kill her if she acquiesced to his request that she become his protégé. The way he had treated her in the last few weeks, it was clear that Ananke’s first refusal could be her last.

When she had donned her safety gear, Ananke looked to Frank for further instruction. No lecture about how much tranquilizer to use or what constituted proper cutting technique was forthcoming, however; her captor simply said,

“Scalpel?”

She blinked. “Wouldn’t it be more expedient to use a reciprocating saw or even a circular saw?”

The corners of Frank’s mouth twitched as if he was delighted that she had made such a suggestion.

“We are not surgeons, we’re killers. Killers don’t have to be careful.

“Besides,” he said airily, accepting the proffered scalpel. “The idea is to inflict as much pain as possible.”

Under Ananke’s watchful eye, Frank sliced neatly into the flesh below the victim’s patella. When there was no response, Ananke glanced over to see if the woman was still alive.

“What did you give her?”

“Ketamine,” Frank replied, carefully filleting the tissue. “Enough to keep her awake, but not so little that she can fight back.”

Ananke’s eyes met that of the victim, who could not have been more than nineteen. When she finally looked back at Frank’s progress, Ananke was disgusted to see several feet of exposed bone and waves of blood.

“I think I’m going to be sick!”

“Sink’s over there.” He gestured idly to the far corner of the trailer. “Just stay the hell out of my way!”

Ananke struggled past him and retched almost as soon as she bent over.

“You’re going to have to learn to tolerate this sometime,” he reminded her as he reached for a bone saw. “You are my apprentice!”