Free SNATCH: A Dark Erotica by Scott Hildreth

attention,” she responded
    “To live or to die. Choices and lessons. Alright. Here’s the biggie as they say. I will allow you to choose to live; but if you do, I must disfigure you. I will take the scalpel and remove a portion of your body, and I will not tell you in advance what portion it will be. It will, however, be limited to one portion of your body, not multiple pieces. And, as I have no anesthetic, it will be painful. You will, I am quite certain, remember the event if you so choose this option, and learn a valuable lesson. Oh my , that sounded bad, didn’t it?”
    As Dana sat and thought of what Ryan had offered, she began to think of being cut with the scalpel, and the pain associated with the procedure. First, she imagined him cutting off her nose, and what she would look like for the rest of her life without a nose. She imagined her foot being removed and the pain that would develop as he attempted to cut the skin and flesh around her foot. She contemplated the amount of time it may take, and how much blood loss there would be as he cut around the circumference of her ankle. She wondered for a moment what he would do to sever the bone after he removed her foot. She imagined that she may bleed to death if he tried to remove an entire limb. Slowly, she looked over the table for sutures and a needle, and saw none.
    Dana felt her stomach convulse and fought to swallow.
    Ryan sat back in his chair and covered his mouth. “Oh please, don’t vomit . Let’s not start that. The floor is concrete, but still, let’s just not ,”
    “Well, think on that for a moment. The other option is this. You will die an almost painless death, and I will donate the stack of money on my left to whichever family member you choose to be the recipient. I assure you as a man of my word, should you choose the latter option - the money will be donated without reservation.”
    He waved in the direction of the pile of money.
    Dana coughed, swallowed, and looked at the pile of money. She contemplated what type of life her family could live with the money, and how they may evolve differently without having her as a family member. The money certainly wouldn’t solve all problems, but it would prevent many. She blinked her eyes, looked down at the table, and thought of living without a nose, hand, or possibly an arm.
    She blinked again and thought of her cancer. What if she were fated, in God’s eyes, to die anyway? She didn’t know the answer, and never would. She stared at the pile of money and tried to remember her days as a teller at the bank when she was 21 years old. Her best recollection was that there was a thousand dollars in a banded stack of one hundred dollar bills. She attempted to calculate the amount of money stacked on the table. She blinked her eyes again and lost track of the stacks she had counted. Frustrated and confused, she looked up and toward Ryan.
    She nodded toward the money. “How much money is there?”
    “Five hundred thousand dollars,” he responded sharply.
    She shifted her weight in the seat and rotated her shoulders in an effort to get comfortable. She looked at the money, turned and looked at the scalpel, and then at Ryan. Calmly, she looked down at her lap, closed her eyes, and began to pray.
    She opened her eyes. “I’ll allow you to disfigure me.”
    He rubbed his hands together. “Interesting. Are you certain?”
    “Quite,” she responded without emotion.
    He stood from his chair and reached for the stack of towels. “Outstanding.”
    He picked a towel from the stack, unfolded it, and placed it in the center of the table. Slowly, he walked around the table and stood behind the chair that Dana sat in. “Lean forward, please. And by all means, don’t try to escape, agreed?”
    “I won’t,” she assured him.
    He reached behind her and unlocked the handcuffs. Carefully he removed them from her wrists, and placed them on the table beside where she was seated. As he walked toward his seat she