Defective - A Psychopath's Tale

Chapter 38

Zandie

"Fuck what a mess! He could've held back, he didn't have to go full force for all 30 lashes. I hope he gets an infection and dies slowly. Or organ rot from a whore." I commented out loud as I tried in vain to stop the bleeding from Lydia's back. It was shredded.

My lover looked on as I worked. He was strong, I knew how he detested the sight of blood; he kept himself good though, handing me what I asked for and putting his hands where I told him to place them. He even held fast when I pulled back on flesh that opened up into Lydia's torso. From this opening, you could see inside her, the organ and lung her bones protected.

"Is that... oh, boy, that is. That's her insides." My lover stammered as he realized what he was seeing.

I thought he'd pass out. He didn't though. He knew I needed his help and forced himself to be available for me. Not an easy thing to do; I'd had students in the ER that passed out over less.

Holland was sprawled out over Lydia keeping pressure on the bandages I'd placed, I hoped there was enough direct pressure to at least slow the bleeding. I had the needed equipment, tools and supplies, the one thing I didn't have, blood; Lydia had lost a lot.

My stitching started where the gashing was the worst; the several open wounds that went right into the cavity of her body. Those needed to be stopped first if there'd be any chance of survival, which in all honesty, there wasn't any hope of.

It took over 30 minutes to suture the gaping wounds Lydia had. It was remarkable that she still had a pulse when I finished. I started checking over her other wounds. Something was bugging me, gnawing at my thoughts.

These other wounds, they weren't nearly as bad as the ones I just sutured closed. They were more superficial by far. As I cleaned the blood from the skin I could see many were just bleeding welts that didn't have the skin torn at all. The lash marks that were torn open didn't go that deep. They'd be less than what Nicholas would have on his back.

That's when it hit me, revelation; what my thoughts were trying to tell me. The deep wounds, the gaping open wounds down to her guts, they looked more like the flesh had been cut, not torn or ruptured like a whip would've done. The remaining wounds on her back were completely different. They were flogging wounds, the others made me think of wounds I'd seen on two boys and a girl that had been injured, and killed, when a guide cable broke where a radio tower was being built.

"Cable." I said blankly from my thoughts. "Oh fuck!" I nearly yelled then stormed from the room.

"What? Zandie?" My lover called after me. I kept going, I caused this.

-_-_-_-_-_

I picked up the whip from where Nicholas had dropped it when he released Lydia. 'Hold on, this isn't a riding crop, this is a cat of nine tails, the real deal, not some dominatrix prop. Used improperly, you could kill someone with this whip.' My own words rang in my head. That's what I'd said to Lydia before I showed her how to use the whip then let her use it on Nells.

"Lover, what's wrong? Why did you leave her like that?" Holland asked in a fearful voice as he urgently followed in.

Without looking at him I said, "Knife, I need a knife, pliers, something to get these thongs apart."

My lover dug in his pockets quickly then pulled something out. "Here." He said handing a tool to me. "It's like a Swiss army knife thing, needle nose, knife, screwdriver, everything in..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know what it is." I responded in a gruff voice.

Sometimes he had this habit of wanting to help and trying to explain but sounding insulting and making a person feel like he thought they were stupid. I started pulling the thongs of the whip apart. Nothing. Then having a thought I probed the end of each tail with a finger. Something poked me.