by Rachel Green
The cut was shallow. Enough to make David gasp and a trickle of blood to run down his skin and pool in the triangle between his throat and clavicle but not enough to cause actual damage. He struggled against the rope holding him to the metal chair.
Gerald trailed the tip of the knife across David's bare chest, pausing at his nipple. "Tell me where the jewels are and you can just go. No tricks, no grudges. You can walk out the door with your head held high." He leaned forward, the sickly-sweet stink of his breath washing over David's face. "Or I can take your jewels in exchange." He pressed the blade against the nub of David's nipple.
David shook his head. "I don't know where they are. I didn't even see where you put them."
"You're—" Gerald pulled the nipple with his left thumb and forefinger and severed it with the blade. "—lying."
David's scream echoed around the room. Gerald waited for it to fade into gasping sobs and bubbling snot. "Scream. Shout. Pray if you like. When I bought this place I had the cellar kitted out as a recording studio. Soundproofed. Any sounds that do escape the neighbours attribute to our kinky tastes. No-one will bother us down here."
The knife point left a trail of blood as Gerald trailed it downward. "Is that fear in your eyes or deception?" Gerald paused, the blade over David's stomach. "You didn't swallow them, did you?"