He wants to save her

Sorry, sorry, he said. I just wanted to help . . .

Didn’t you read the instructions? she asked, licking her lips, puckering them, and then relaxing.

Look just shut up and get more tape, put it over my mouth, and really yank it off this time. This is only worthwhile if my lips are swollen.

What? he says, standing up and taking a step backwards.

OK, here’s the thing — it’s really important that you just do what I tell you to, when I tell you to do it. And don’t ask questions . . . she paused, glanced around the room, and then continued in a quieter voice,

We’re being watched, and that notepad is the script telling us what they want to see. If we don’t follow it, bad things start to happen.

Fine, he said. But can’t I, em, at least know your name? My name is Hideo.

I’m Donna, she said. Now get the cuntish tape.

Hideo taped over Donna’s mouth and ripped it off. She winced, but this time she smiled after the initial shock had faded.

Now get the knife, she said.

Hideo picked the knife up, the sheen of it blinding him momentarially.

Donna said,

Now draw the tip of the blade across my bottom lip, she said.

Are you serious? Hideo said, stifling a nervous laugh.

Just do it you pussy, Donna said, her eyes never opening.

As soon as she spoke this sentence, Hideo’s pupils constricted to the size of peas and his heart slowed to a periodic drum beat.

Pores instantly dried up, sweat evaporating off his skin. Sensation of a layer being peeled off the surface of his brain. Head felt half as heavy as normal. There was no more time for questions, only action. With one hand he seized Donna’s chin and jaw, and with the other he let the blade hover at one corner of her mouth. He lowered it with a steady grip on the handle and the tiptop of it disappeared into one of the many crevices etched into her naked, lipstick-less lower lip, which was puffy and swollen from the tape — as though stung by a bumblebee.

He didn’t hasten to shed blood, for he knew he had to be sure of the knife’s trajectory and how much pressure he was going to apply and how deep he would cut and how he would — and Donna never opened her eyes once, her mouth half open, incidentally forming an O shape. Hideo felt his hand tremble, so he held his wrist with his other hand and took a deep breath, held it…and held it, and then let it out through grit teeth, relishing how his lungs deflated, ridding itself of spent air.

Release the poison, he said to himself.

His knife wielding hand was dead still once more. Contented with his calculations, he began to draw the knife across Donna’s lip, which was tougher than he had anticipated — on the surface it was voluptuous and pillowy, but under that it was, in fact, meat. The blood was slow to come at first — it wasn’t until Hideo hit the midway point that it really started to flow — bright red syrupy blood gathering at the corners of her mouth, gushing like a brook over her chin and onto his fingers, down her neck and into the cling film she was wearing. The only resistance to the knife was a dull series of micropulsations as tiny capillaries were burst open. Thoughts of eviscerated earthworms. But Donna never made a sound. Her face did not show any emotion, any feeling, any response, any pain.

She was somewhere else.

He was saving her, wasn’t he?

Hideo never took much notice of her, or of the blood, instead focusing on keeping the knife’s course as straight as possible. But of course the lower lip curves somewhat, and Hideo took care to navigate without touching a millimeter of skin.

Finally, got to the other corner of her mouth and withdrew it slowly, his other hand still on his wrist to keep it still. Donna’s let out a gasp that turned into a moan at the last second. Her mouth closed, her upper lip painted red. She opened her eyes and they sparkled as she looked at Hideo, who was walking backwards away from her. He stumbled over himself, dropping the knife with a jarring clatter.

Oh Gosh, Hideo panted. He fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands.

Christ, Donna said.

I’m sorry, Hideo said, looking up at from between his fingers. I can’t believe I . . .

Will you please just shut up? We have more stuff to do, and it is certainly within your best interests to follow this through.

What? What’s next? Hideo asked, getting to his feet and approaching the chair.

Donna licked blood off her lips and said,

You have to eat me out through the cling film.

Are you . . ? No! No way . . . I can’t do that, Hideo said, bowing his head and scratching the back of his neck again. The lights hit him such that his forehead turned into a shiny dome, beneath which his eyes hid in hollow shadow.

Donna narrowed her eyes and said, Do you want to die just because you won’t put your big precious mouth onto my stupid fuckin pussy?

This isn’t right! Hideo cried. We just met each other and I…now I have to…I don’t know what this or how on earth I got here, but I don’t want to be part of this any longer. This is insane! Don’t you realise that? How did I end up here, honestly? And how do I get the hell out of here?

Hideo turned around and bolted for the door. He rattled the door handle. Locked. Then a feminine but robotic voice came over the intercom:

Tiene que hacer lo que ella dice, it said.

What does that mean? Hideo said, pacing over to Donna. What’s with all the Spanish?

Look, I already told you, Donna said, you have to do what I tell you or this is not going to end well for us. Well, it’s definitely not going to for you, unless you do as say.

I don’t believe this, Hideo said, running ash white fingers through his hair. I can’t actually believe this.

Just do it, Donna said. Just do it you pussy.

Suddenly another layer was peeled off Hideo’s psyche. His head weighed nothing. His entire body calmed down, cooled down, slowed down. He pulled the stool around and sat in front of Donna, and she spread her legs as much as she could given the cling film’s restrictions.

He squeezed his eyes shut and dived right in: the snap — SNAP! — and his mouth filled with hot blood before he ever felt the pain . . .