* * *

I dug the scalpel under the nail and moved it back and forth slowly as muffled screams echoed around me. The fingernail came off, strings of blood and flesh sticking to the back of it. It was a decently clean take off. Beads of crimson bubbled up to the surface before running over and dripping onto the floor, joining the growing puddle.

The stench of urine perfumed the air, and I scrunched my nose in disgust. I glanced up at the man at my table. His green eyes were wide and red as he stared back at me, pleading without words.

“I’ve only gotten halfway through this hand, and you’re already calling it quits?” Disappointment drenched over my words.

He shook and nodded his head. “Still don’t know anything.”

I smiled. “Then I’ll continue.”

The other man was strapped to the ceiling. His eyes were dazed as he stared down at me. I could switch between the two going back and forth. The icy tendrils slowed me down, reminding me I didn’t have to rush. Answers were what I was after. Once I got them, I was free to do as I pleased.

I removed all of his fingernails from one hand and then the next. I messed up on the pinky as he started to shake on the table. Removing the wet cloth from his mouth, he spluttered and coughed.

“Who are you working with?”

He shook his head. “No one. I swear.”

I nodded and moved over to the one hanging from the ceiling. Blood dripped from the bullet wound in his arm. But with it elevated it had slowed tremendously.

My hand collided with his face, but the dazed look stayed in his eyes. I opened the cabinet we kept on hand and picked up the chainsaw at the bottom. It wasn’t my favorite, but it worked.

“Wh-what are you doing?” the one on the table stuttered.

I didn’t bother answering him as I pressed my finger against the throttle and pulled the cord to start it. The engine kicked to life, and the vibration rattled me down to my toes. If the guy on the table said anything more, I couldn’t hear him over the chainsaw.

Stepping forward, I held it up. As if I’d dumped ice water on him, the man suspended from the ceiling shook. The chains hanging from the ceiling rattled.

“What the fuck!” he shouted for help as he struggled, swinging around.

My fingers went numb the longer I held the chainsaw. I let him swing, but he lost control. His body started to move in a circle. Blood from his wound fell on my white shirt, making a crimson spot appear.

I focused on it for a second, drowning them both out and sinking into the bliss of chaos. Where some felt out of control, I felt normal. It was how I imagine everyone felt every single day, their brains not on fire and steadily trying to destroy them.