For what felt like the hundredth time, he said, “I’m not who you’re looking for. I don’t even know what it is you want!”
Sighing, as though Niklaus had disappointed him once again, Jetmir grabbed the red, plastic container from the floor by his feet, walking over to her, whistling as he began dumping the contents onto Sarah’s head, the liquid soaking her hair and washing away the red that stained her body in seconds.
Her eyes pleaded with Niklaus as she seemed to snap out of whatever fog she was under, her cries of alarm not quite muffled by her gag.
When the acrid scent of gasoline hit him, Niklaus began begging in earnest, not caring how weak he sounded. “Please…I’m not who you think I am. I live in Florida. I work construction! Whatever you want. Money? I can get it for you. Anything. Anything you want, I’ll do. Just please, please, let her go.”
Jetmir held the lighter out, his expression thoughtful as the flame sparked and danced, as if it too was anticipating the moment of contact.
“One last chance.”
Niklaus met Sarah’s gaze, helplessness eating at him. He could see it in her eyes, the moment she knew she was going to die, and instead of fear, there was acceptance.
Acceptance that there was nothing he could do to stop this.
And maybe...maybe acceptance that a part of her believed this was his fault.
No matter how short the time would be, he knew the look on her face would haunt him until he died. Her lips were moving, as though she was trying to tell him something, but he couldn’t understand her words…and he never would.
“Please…”
The word had barely passed his lips before Jetmir dropped the lighter.
Time slowed to a crawl as Niklaus watched its descent, falling end over end until it clamored on the floor, bouncing a couple of times before settling. Then, he watched in horror as the flames rushed over her, licking at her skin until she was consumed entirely.
Chapter Three
His ears were ringing.
From his screams or hers, he wasn’t sure.
The smell of burning flesh refused to leave his nostrils. For as long as he lived, he knew the stench would stay imprinted on his mind, along with everything else about this place, including the people in it.
Jetmir had watched him the entire time Sarah was burning even after she had stopped screaming. It wasn’t the act, that was getting him off, but Niklaus’ reaction to it.
When he was alone again, or so he thought, Niklaus finally let himself break down.
God, how pathetic he felt crying as though that could do anything to bring back the life that just been taken. All these years, all the taunts that everyone threw in his direction, they had been right. He hadn’t been a good choice for her because in the end, he had been the one to get her killed.
Even if it was no fault of his own, he still felt that way.
He also knew that it wasn’t out of sympathy that the bag was placed back over his head, probably only put there so he wouldn’t see the next wave of suffering he was about to encounter.
Niklaus sniffled, wishing he could wipe his face. He didn’t care much for his dignity--if there was even a shred left. In the span of minutes, he had lost everything.
Then…
He heard steps, quiet ones, but loud enough for him to tense in fear.
Was this it?
Was this the end?
He was almost grateful that it was finally here, and maybe, the crushing guilt that was sitting heavily in his chest would finally lift.
Faster than Niklaus could have anticipated, one of the knives lodged in his chest was ripped free. He tried to grit his teeth against the pain, but it felt worse coming out than it had going in. A moment later, the other was ripped free as well.
He felt cold, rough hands on him, pulling the shirt free from his skin, swiping away the blood that was flowing freely from his new wounds.
There was a curse, or at least that was what Niklaus thought since he couldn’t understand the language.
If he had to guess, it was Valon, only because no one else had seemed even remotely moved by the fact that Niklaus had continuously tried to tell them how he wasn’t the man they were hunting.
Without a word however, Valon moved away, leaving the bag in place, but what Niklaus heard next, for once, didn’t make him worry.
Nothing could be worse than hearing Sarah screaming as she was burned alive.
There was a grunt of surprise from someone across the room, the sharp sound of something splashing against the wall, and the thud of something heavy hitting the floor.
Then nothing…
It seemed Sarah wouldn’t be the only one to die in this room.
Chapter Four