~*~
“I can’t….” She tried to refuse the gag but couldn’t. He was dangling the device over her face before wrapping it around her jaw and head, once again making her defenseless to anything he wanted to do. This time he was going to work on his electroshock therapy. She had heard of serial killers and mass murderers doing crazy things, but never thought that she would be in one of these spots where the story would one day be about her and what happened while she was being tortured.
“Kitten, I want you to know I’ve enjoyed this time together, but now, now it’s time to say goodbye.”
Nadia’s heart started to race. She watched as Slade brought over his black bag and started to unroll his leather pouch. He took something out and it was hard for her to focus at first. Her mind wasn’t able to comprehend what was going on because of the fear that was taking over. Then she saw it, the silver.
Knives.
She started to kick her legs, but the restraints held her in place. She started to pull her arms and got nowhere; she screamed and nothing came out, the ball gag silencing her.
Carlisle saw what was happening across the room. Slade had removed the knives and was going to cut Nadia, cut his woman, no, not his woman, his friend, someone he cared about. He opened his box, took out the garrote, and put it inside of his pocket. He shrugged his jacket off and put it on the floor next to the box. He began his march to save her.
He walked up behind Slade; he looked down at Nadia and shook his head at her. He wanted her to stay silent. He balled up his right hand into a fist and swung. He hit Slade in the back of the head. The sound of fist meeting bone was a cracking noise that neither Carlisle nor Nadia were used to hearing.
Carlisle had caused Slade to be knocked off balance, and his knives fell to the floor. They made a clinking and clattering noise while hitting the concrete, and he turned around. His shock was displayed on his face when Slade looked at Carlisle coming at him.
“What are you doing here?” Slade asked.
Carlisle said nothing. He simply grabbed Slade’s collar, pulled him up towards him, and hurled him into the nearby wall. He rushed toward him and jammed his knee into his sternum; he repeated the motion over and over, then jammed his elbow into Slade’s face. Slade’s nose now broke; blood ran down across his mouth and chin. Carlisle took the back of Slade’s shirt by the collar and tossed him to the ground near the table where the knives had fallen.
Carlisle saw Slade’s hand reach out for one of his knives, and his foot quickly stomped on his hand, hard. His wrist bones cracked and Slade let out a cry. Carlisle reached into his pocket and pulled out the garrote. He ran his fingers through Slade’s hair then made a fist and pulled his hair causing his neck to wrench, pulling him back towards his chest. Carlisle put the garrote onto Slade’s neck and began tightening the device.
One…two…three…four…five…six…seven… that was all it took for Slade to die. Carlisle removed the garrote, put it back into his pocket, and looked over his shoulder at Nadia whose eyes were wide, tear filled, and scared. She had seen everything.
He moved to her and unleashed the device from her mouth, and he heard her let out a moan in relief when she could freely move her jaw again. He then released her arms and legs.
“Can you walk?” he questioned.
“I think so.”
He watched her eyes start to look over at Slade’s lifeless body, so he moved his to step into her view so she couldn’t see him. “You don’t need to see that, Nadia.”
“You killed him.”
“I did.”
“He’s not like the others though,” she said in a soft tone
“No.”
He didn’t need to go into any explanations about why he did what he did. They both knew it needed to be done, and there were no other options.
“What day is it?”
“Saturday morning.”
“My parents will be in tomorrow,” Nadia said while trying to stand up from the table. She went to put her weight on her legs and started to fall when she pressed down on her legs.
Carlisle reached around and wrapped his arm around her back and held her up. He walked her out of the room and grabbed his coat and box, then continued to walk her out of the warehouse and into his car. He got her settled and began driving her back towards town. They drove for ten minutes in silence before he spoke.
“Your parents are actually in town. It’s been all over the news. Once we check you into the hospital, I’ll call my contact at the police department and let them know you are safe at the hospital so they can have your parents come see you.”
“Can’t I just call them now?”
“I don’t have a phone with me.”
“Oh.”
“Sorry.” He didn’t give much feeling in his tone or expression with his statement; it was said more out of habit or expectation than true sentiment.
“I understand.”