Outlast: Mr Gluskin's Bride

Heh, heh, Aldrin...

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6. Five

Light...

My head was swimming... eyes fluttering... open and shut...
Light...
I could stay this way... Not wake up... It's not so bad... unconsciousness...
Light...
But I'm waking... I don't want to... but I am... The darkness is letting me go...

I stared up at the shining bulb hanging on a single wire above me.
I couldn't move my limbs, and when I turned my head, I realised that I was tied down.
Not good.
Not good.
Not good.
Flies were buzzing around me, the sharp coppery smell of blood filled my senses, such that I could taste it in my mouth. I struggled against my restraints, but to no avail. The circular buzz-saw was ahead of me.
“You have amazing bone structure,” I looked to my side, not realising how fast I was breathing. Gluskin had a pitying look on his face, full of regret - like he didn't want to do what he was about to do, “Such soft skin. You're going to be beautiful.”
I stared at him as he made his way towards my feet.
“A woman... has to suffer some things. It's not pleasant I know. But try to... endure. For my sake. For the sake of our children.”

He couldn't be serious.
He couldn't possibly be serious.
Right?

“It won't take long. Just a few snips of the flesh. Cut away everything... vulgar.”
I shook my head wildly.
No.
No, vulgar is fine.
I want to keep all my vulgar bits.
“The incision will hurt.”
No shit!
“And the conception. And birthing is never easy.”
The buzz-saw began to turn, faster and faster. I screamed, trying hard to break the ropes around my wrists and my ankles. The loud buzzing became sharp and fast.
“I'll make the cut quick,” Gluskin reassured over my howling, “Just close your eyes and think of our children.”
He began to pull me forward. I watched in fascinated horror, unable to look away. I begged and pleaded with him, but his ears were deaf to my cries. The saw began to splinter the wood.
It was going to happen.

Oh God!
Oh God!
Oh God!

A body slammed into Gluskin and the saw began to slow. I sighed and bit into the ropes around my wrists, the blood bitter and metallic in my mouth, and managed to tear them loose. I unbound my remaining limbs and got off the table, stumbling because of my injured leg, pushing myself as far away from the table as I could, staring at it in pure fear. Gluskin and another one of his prisoners were locked in combat. Gluskin managed to shove the prisoner off, but the prisoner delivered a hard punch to Gluskin's head and ran for it.
“Get back here!” Gluskin called and chased after him.
I got up and hobbled opposite Gluskin to exit the room.
There had to be some means of escape. At this point, I would jump out of a window to get away from here. I limped my way to another room.
“You crazy bitch!” I heard Gluskin bark.
He must have realised I was gone.
Shit.
I dragged myself along, determined never to see Gluskin's face ever again.
“Whore! You could have been beautiful!” he called.
He was getting closer. I could hear it.
I went passed more mannequins in red dresses, easels with old paintings of nude women on them. More bloody script painted along walls.
But I didn't care for any of that.

To find a way out - be that by exit or death - was all I was looking for.

“How could you do this to me?” Gluskin screeched.
Then I saw it. The broken window. That would do.
Exit or death.
Good enough for me.
I hobbled over to it, shutting my eyes and throwing my injured foot over.
This was it.
“No!” Gluskin said, rushing in behind me, “Don't! Don't!”

I let myself fall.
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