the steel up his collarbone, his neck, stopping at his cheek.
“Oh hell, not the face,” Neil said.
The masked man said nothing, drawing his weapon back.
“Not the fucking face...”
The man dug the blade into Neil’s cheek, dragging it through his flesh. Blood pooled at the steel tip, following its path up Neil’s face, over his ear, around the back of his head, leaving a dripping red line through the patterns in his hair.
The man pulled away, and Neil went loose in his restraints, his face twisted in pain. “Stupid cunt.”
He spat at the man, who simply plodded back to the center of the room.
Tick, tick, tick.
Tobias sucked in a breath. He fought to pacify his firing nerves, but his eyes betrayed his efforts, trained on the roll of knives. The masked man ran his fingers over the line before stopping at a long rod with a sharp tip, then placed it in the center of the floor and flicked its handle.
The rod whirled in dizzying circles, stopping at Bjorne—who was still asleep.
Bjorne’s garbled snoring cut through the room. The masked man walked toward him, his steps slow, his rod in hand, yet Bjorne hadn’t the slightest idea. Seconds of unnecessary tension passed, and the man slammed the rod into Bjorne’s shoulder, plunging it into his meaty flesh.
Bjorne stirred, licking his lips before drifting back to sleep.
A few of the men muttered under their breath, envious of Bjorne’s effortless calm. The masked man yanked the rod from Bjorne’s shoulder, who mumbled unintelligible phrases before resuming his snoring.
A new blade was already spinning on the floor, and Tobias’s muscles tensed. Dammit, be calm, but the thought was irrelevant as soon as the weapon came to a stop, pointing at Kaleo.
“Oh, this is exciting,” Kaleo said. “And here I was worried I’d be excluded from the fun.”
Tobias raised his chin, vindicated. The masked man approached Kaleo, his blade in hand, but Kaleo simply laughed.
“Well, you’re an ugly fellow, aren’t you?”
Tobias’s patience wore thin. He watched hungrily as the steel made its way to Kaleo’s shoulder, but suddenly Kaleo’s gaze flitted his way, the two studying one another with the same intent focus. The blade pierced Kaleo’s flesh, carving a thick, bloody line from shoulder to hip, yet Kaleo’s eyes remained on Tobias, his grin widening with the length of the gash.
The masked man dropped his weapon, leaving Kaleo maimed but otherwise unaffected. Tobias’s jaw tightened, and Kaleo chuckled at the sight of it.
“Don’t frown, Artist. It doesn’t suit that handsome face of yours.”
Tick, tick, tick. Tobias stilled his breathing, pretending Kaleo wasn’t taunting him. Their torturer’s gnarled hand passed over his toys, plucking one from the rest.
This blade was large and curved like the beak of a bird, the most sinister piece of them all. He placed it on the floor and sent it spinning, whirling round and round until it pointed at one man.
Tobias.
Kaleo let out a laugh, but for once Tobias ignored him. His heart pounded as if eager to escape his body, to free itself from the white room completely. The masked man stared at him with an unfeeling gaze, and the look alone cut through him.
Tick, tick, tick.
The masked man took a step forward. Another. Tobias’s breathing turned desperate, and he clenched his jaw, fighting to keep firm.
“Breathe, brother,” Orion said. “Just breathe.”
“Don’t look directly at him,” Zander added.
The last suggestion was impossible to follow. The masked man stood right in front of him, displaying his blade—a horrifying sight, and worse, the ticking had gained momentum. Tick tick tick.
“Breathe,” Orion repeated.
“Oh my God, he’s going to die.” Altair whimpered. “The Artist is going to die.”
“I must say, I agree with the man,” Kaleo said. “I think this is the last day for our poor Artist.”
Kaleo’s gaze was palpable, enough to rip Tobias in two—much like the weapon in front of him.
Tick tick tick.
“I’m rather disappointed, you know. I was really hoping to kill you myself, but it appears this fine gentleman is going to do the honors.” Kaleo frowned. “Heartbreaking, truly.”
Saliva pooled in Tobias’s mouth. Slowly, the masked man raised his blade, pressing the cool steel to Tobias’s neck and sending his back shooting straight. He dragged the blade down his chest, his stomach, the length of his thigh, then finally brought it to a halt, positioning it just above Tobias’s knee.
“Just breathe.” Orion’s voice interrupted the tension. “It’s but a moment of pain. It’ll pass.”