Despite being paralyzed, my entire body trembled, so much so, that the chair squeaked beneath me. Delacroix pressed the jagged blades of the saw against my throat. I begged him with my eyes. Time slowed. Blinding pain as the blade punctured and then sawed, and bright, red blood squirted and spilled and warmth burst down my neck and chest as he cut deeper. Blood gurgled in my throat and my stomach readied to spew. I hoped madness would possess me and take my mind with it. Dear God, save me, but more importantly, save her. Outside, sudden chaos, strange sounds carried, alluding to an unearthly brawl. Delacroix rested the saw on the side table and left. Silence. I struggled to breathe as the gaping gash restored. The scarlet flow slowed and receded and the agonizing spasms dissipated. In the corner lay my discarded jacket. Jacob’s locket was in one of those pockets. Delacroix returned, dragging Marcus in with him. Marcus’ spectacles poked out of his tattered shirt pocket. Get me out of here!
