[AN - Hey guys. I can't thank you enough for your support. I'm starting to get really busy at work. So, I'll be releasing chapters less frequently for a while. Enjoy!]
It was dark and damp under the bridge. A cold wind blew in from the river, the sound of the water mingling with the distant hum of cars above, but here, under the bridge, there was an almost deathly silence. The pieces of concrete, rusty pipes, and abandoned sections of metal structures lying around turned the space into a cave—hidden and forgotten by people.
Maria came here voluntarily. To say goodbye to her husband. To turn the page and leave Chicago, find peace, and enjoy life with money in her pocket.
She didn't know that she had stepped right into a trap that had been set long ago.
Maria stood by the railing, looking at the black water. Next to her were her ex-husband's belongings, which she wanted to leave where he had died. In her hands she held a bottle of whiskey that her husband loved so much. Her fingers were trembling. Anger? Nervousness? Or something else? No one but her would ever know.
Until the steady sound of footsteps was heard. A sharp shadow slipped behind her.
His hand slid under her chin, the other resting on his own wrist—a perfect chokehold.
Maria squealed, but the sound disappeared immediately.
John pulled her back, pressing her body against his, and the hold tightened. The pressure on her carotid arteries was instantaneous.
Maria struggled, trying to pry his hands apart, but her strength was fading too quickly—she gasped for air but couldn't breathe. Her knees trembled, her eyes darted around, her movements grew weaker and weaker.
Her breathing became thin, intermittent, barely audible, and her knees buckled.
Maria began to scratch the ground senselessly, as if trying to stay conscious. A black pressure pulsed in her head, her vision narrowing to a narrow tube. One last effort — weak, desperate. Then her fingers loosened, her arms fell limply.
John held on for a few more seconds, watching her body become soft and heavy. She was completely unconscious.
She woke up inside. Chained to the table. Her hands were strapped to the table with straps, and they were shaking so badly that they seemed foreign to her. The space around her was a concrete room with cold walls, a ceiling with metal ribs, and a huge shadow structure hanging over her.
A large iron pendulum. It hung directly above her, motionless at stomach level. Next to each of her hands were clamps. Perfectly sized for human hands.
Maria didn't immediately understand what was happening. Only when the screen in front of her came to life did she flinch.
The dim old TV lit up a doll. It was a strange doll, it looked grotesque, all white with two twisted spirals on its cheeks.
It turned its gaze toward her.
"Hello, Maria," said a squeaky voice.
Maria gasped.
"Oh my God... please... let me go..."
The voice continued, without sympathy, without emotion:
"You killed your husband." Cold-blooded. All you had to do was push. And you pushed. He didn't even have time to shout. Today you will face what you caused yourself.
Maria tried to shake her head, but the clamps on her forehead and neck restrained her.
— THAT'S NOT TRUE! IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! CAN YOU HEAR ME?! BY ACCIDENT!!!
No one answered her screams, but the doll from the TV continued to look at Maria. "You have a vice in front of you," the voice continued. — If you put both hands in there, the mechanism will slow down the pendulum. The bolts will tighten more and more. The pain will increase. But you'll gain time.
The pendulum suddenly came to life. A cold metallic sigh, as if the machine had woken up. The blade swung down... and back... slowly, smoothly, as if savoring what was coming.
Maria screamed so loudly that her voice broke:
— NO!!! NOOO!!! STOP IT!!! PLEASE!!!
The pendulum made its first swing — wide, lazily predatory. The blade passed over her, leaving a barely audible whistle as a warning.
The pendulum went into reverse. Even closer.
Maria was torn between panic and disbelief. She continued to scream and call for help, hoping that at least someone would answer her and help her in the current situation.
"HELP ME!"!! PEOPLE!! SOMEONE!!! PLEASE!!!
No one heard her pleading. The pendulum continued to swing over her. Maria let out a high-pitched, almost pig-like squeal.
— OKAY!!! I'LL DO IT!!! I'LL DO IT!!! STOP IT! STOOOOOOOP!!!
She started thrusting her hands in, one at first, but reflexively pulled back:
— "I CAN'T!"! I CAN'T!!! I CAN'T!!!
The pendulum swung even lower. She screamed and begged:
"PLEASE!" Whoever you are! Stop it! I DON'T WANT TO DIE!!! Please!!!
But time was running out and the pendulum was sinking lower and lower. As if the cold mechanism didn't care about her pleas, requests.
Maria put both hands in a vice. A second of silence and the vise began to close.
A scream tore through the room. Harsh, animalistic, unlike a human. The bolts began to tighten. Gradually and relentlessly.
— AAAAAAA!!! NO!!! STOP IT!!! DON'T KILL ME, I'VE REPENTED!!! PLEASE!!!
But the mechanism was not created for mercy and not for forgiveness. Maria struggled, twitched, and tore her voice:
— PLEASE!! I DIDN'T MEAN TO!!! I NEEDED THE MONEY!! JUST... STOP... IT... !!!
The bolts continued to tighten, second by second, millimeter by millimeter.
Maria shuddered violently when she realized that the pain in her arms had become unbearable. The metal vise continued to grip her wrists, as if trying to grind them to the bone. She screamed, panting in panic, the sounds echoing hollowly.
The pendulum above her body swung again, lower than before. Maria screamed, and the sound was no longer one of pain, but of terror.
— "Please!" She blurted it out. — Please stop!" Stop it!
She was crying now without words, in an unconscious, ragged moan.
The pendulum swung again. Maria saw that he had lowered himself even lower and slightly caught her blouse. There was a smooth trace of the pendulum blade on her blouse.
— No... no... please...— she squeezed out. "Don't... please…
The pendulum sank even lower. One short, desperate "please" escaped her lips — and then the steel caught up with her.
The cold steel touched her body for the first time—not deeply, but enough for Maria to feel the sharp, cutting, almost scalding cold of the metal. She screamed as if the sound had been torn from her by force.
She tried to suck in her stomach, as if trying to push away the inevitable at the last moment. The second blow was lower, a little deeper. Maria jerked her whole body as if an electric shock had passed through her. She lost her breath for a moment, her mouth opening in a silent scream. Then the wheezing returned, ragged and intermittent.The pendulum returned to the top point. Maria raised her head, and for the first time there was clarity in her gaze. She understood. No one will hear her. No one will come and no one will stop.
The pendulum returned to the top point. Maria raised her head, and for the first time there was clarity in her gaze. She understood. No one will hear her. No one will come and no one will stop.
The third blow came almost immediately. Maria screamed, short, sharp, and strangled. Her stomach was bleeding and her insides were already visible. Foam came out of her mouth mixed with blood, which Maria was trying to cough up.
There was silence for several seconds.
The footsteps sounded soft but clear.
Maria saw a figure in a pig mask standing in her field of vision. The movements of the figure are smooth and calm.
— P-p-please...— she whispered. "I... I... did... everything... that... I could."…
The figure tilted its head as if studying her. Not sympathizing, just watching.
Maria sobbed:
"I... didn't... want... to... kill him."…
Man in a Pig Mask not answer.
She just raised her hand.
I waved at her.
Gradually.
Goodbye.
Maria exhaled, as if all the air, all the life had gone out of her.
The figure turned around and left as quietly as it had entered. Without a single word. Without a single sound.
The room was quiet again.