Free Wrath James White presents Poisoning Eros I & II by Monica J. O'Rourke Page A

groping air. He lifted
the knife, turned to face Gloria.
    “Games are over. No more stalling. No more bullshit.
If you try to pray, I will cut out your tongue. I swear to God I
will.” He smiled at his little joke. “Listen to me, and listen very
carefully. You will do this, and you’ll do it now. I’m out
of patience. Do it now!”
    He handed the butcher knife to Gloria, and she
dropped it to the floor. “I won’t do it.” He couldn’t stop her from
praying in her head. God, it’s been a long time since we spoke.
Since I’ve asked you for anything at all. Please get us out of
this. Please save Angela and her baby.
    She didn’t expect an answer. God had remained
strangely silent for most of her life. But if he was there, and if
he was listening, maybe he would help her. Though she knew
better.
    Vlad nodded. “I expected as much. I really can’t
understand why you would choose to fight me when you know I always
win.”
    His calm demeanor was more frightening to her than
his anger was.
    She tried to lick her lips but had no spit. She
sucked in a breath, took a step back.
    Vlad picked the knife up off the floor and slowly
approached her. Gloria had backed up into the table and clutched it
now, digging her nails into the wood.
    He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to the
floor. When she was flat on her back, struggling beneath him,
kicking her legs, he planted his knees on her shoulders, pinning
her down. Grabbed her by the hair and pressed the knife against her
face.
    “The Lord is muh-my Shepherd …” she said, her body
shaking, her breath seizing in her lungs.
    “No atheists in foxholes. Right?” Vlad dropped his
head forward, leaned in to Gloria’s ear. “And if thy right eye
offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: for it is
profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not
that thy whole body should be cast into hell.
    “One thing at a time, I always say.”
    He lifted the knife and laid it against the outside
of her eye. She cringed, tried to move her head but he held her too
tightly. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt the point of the blade
touch the lid. Less than a second later it penetrated; she felt the
blade digging around inside her eye, felt the warm fluid pour from
the wound and trickle into her ear. Heard a slight squeaky
plop.
    Then the pain hit, and she screamed, writhing
beneath Vlad, wanting to escape him, wanting to comfort her wounded
eye. Then he climbed off, and she pressed her hand against her eye.
Eye socket , really. Nothing there but blood streaming from a
hollow point in her head.
    “Mom!” Angela screamed. “No!”
    Gloria leaned forward and vomited. On her hands and
knees, she tried to get up but slipped in her own blood.
    Vlad handed her a towel and directed her hand to it,
pressed it against her wound.
    The eye couldn’t be missing. Couldn’t be. This
couldn’t be happening.
    She managed to look up using her good eye. Vlad was
in front of her, his feet planted wide. On the end of the knife he
still held was her eyeball.
    “Get up, Gloria. Let’s get this over with.”
    “No …” she moaned, using the table to pull herself
up on quivering legs.
    “All right. It appears that torturing you won’t make
much difference.” He turned his head in Ryan’s direction. “Fuck
her,” he said, indicating Angela. “I’ll fuck her when you’re
finished.”
    Not even a moment’s hesitation and Ryan was
unzipping his pants.
    Angela started sobbing, begging her father not
to.
    “Wait,” Gloria said, extending her hand toward them.
Speaking was difficult, exhausting. “Don’t do it. Please.”
    Vlad pulled the eyeball off the blade tip and popped
it into his mouth, chewing slowly, viscous fluid oozing from
between his lips. He flipped the knife around in his hand and
offered it to her shaft-first. “Do it now, Gloria.”
    “Please don’t, Mom …” Angela cried. “Please!”
    She raised the knife over the infant, stared with
her one eye