Twisted - Esme Devlin Page 0,37
enjoy my games when you think you have a chance of winning.”
“You’re mistaken,” I tell him.
“Really? Why don’t we test that theory? Why don’t we see if I can enjoy your defiance for as long as you can pretend to hate my game?”
“I…” I’m stumbling now. Trying to find the words and failing. “What is the game?”
He laughs while he lifts me into his arms and stands up. “Absolutely no idea.”
“Then what are the rules?” I’m panicking as he walks toward the door.
“There are no rules,” he says, getting the handle with his elbow and kicking the door open.
He is impossible. “If there are no rules, then how am I supposed to win?”
We’re traveling down the corridor now. “Oh, my sweet girl. You don’t win my games,” he says, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. “No one wins my games. The goal is merely to see if your defiance holds out longer than my enjoyment of it.”
After a walk that feels almost a mile long, we arrive at the entrance hall that has eluded me all evening. Baron puts me down to fetch a set of keys from his pocket and unlocks a large wooden door.
The lower floors. This is the place that was off-limits, and already my mind is running overtime with theories as to why.
I guess this is the place he keeps the other women.
“Follow me,” he says, barely turning his head around before he makes off down the long dark corridor. “Andrei!”
A man appears a few moments later from one of the rooms and follows us, walking a few paces behind me. I recognize him now. He was there the first night at the carnival, and I saw him both nights previously.
At the end of the corridor, we reach a staircase, lit only by a couple of flickering fluorescent strip lights.
The whole place makes my skin crawl. Nothing good can come of this, of that I’m sure. Baron stops and catches my hand in his before pulling me down the stairs with him.
Down here, it’s even darker than upstairs.
There are candles sitting on side tables at intervals along the corridor, looking like miniature shrines. We stop in front of a door that is secured with padlocks and bolts. Baron steps back and lets Andrei open it.
The door creaks open and my knees feel weak. He told me the things that go on in his basement—Utopia—but I believe that was only scratching the surface.
We enter the room and the smell of decay hits me. Andrei lights a candle attached to the wall, illuminating the small room. In the corner, there is a man sitting on a chair, each limb shackled to the wall. He’s so still I almost thought he was dead at first sight, but now that my eyes are adjusting, I can see the rise and fall of his chest.
There is no bed, just a bucket in the corner with a piece of wood covering it, and a single chair on the opposite wall with its own set of shackles. I take a step back when I see the wall is littered with tools and devices hanging from hooks.
“What is this?”
Baron sits in the unoccupied chair and leans back, letting out a sigh.
“Here is how this will go. I give you a simple instruction, and you, my sweet girl, need only to obey me or defy me.”
I swallow. There is no way it will be that simple.
“And if I defy you?”
“My friend here will pull this man’s teeth out. Preferably slowly and painfully. I’d have Andrei take his tongue, but I think the man should be given the opportunity to plead for your mercy.”
All I can do is shake my head at him, unable to process that this is really happening. “This is fucked up. You are fucked up. Why would you do this?”
He laughs at that, as if I didn’t just insult him. He opens his jacket and removes a gun, before resting his hand on the arm of the chair. “Because, my dear, whether you choose to follow or ignore my instructions, the result is still amusing to me. Shall we begin?”
“I… I don’t want to play,” I plead, backing away from him.
“Oh come now. We’ve not even started yet. I told you that no one wins my games, but I promise there is a way you can win this one. I will give you three orders. You win, the man lives. You lose, the man dies.”
I don’t trust