No Peace for the Damned

and blinked my eyes into focus
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    Cold steel surrounded me, the tank walls gray except where the bolted seams had rusted to a flaky red and green. My legs weren’t long enough yet to bend where the seat ended. Instead, my bare feet dangled oddly off the edge, pulling against the straps that held them in place
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    Five feet above me, the top of the tank was open. I could see my father’s head and shoulders. Dressed in his CEO best, he rested his arms on the tank’s edge. He looked down at me, his face pinched in frustration. The water wasn’t working right. It was coming out more as a spray than in droplets. It needed to be as close to real rain as possible. I shivered, wearing nothing but panties and an undershirt
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    Father’s features contorted in disgust the moment our eyes met. He rolled his gaze away from mine and spoke directly to the man next to him. One of my uncles? Probably, but my eyes were still blurred, and I couldn’t tell which one. They shared the same dark hair, sculpted features. Their faces all ran together for me
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    I turned my head, but the movement tore open a wound on the side of my neck—a soldered gash that went from behind my right ear, down my neck, all the way to my collarbone. It hurt like hell. I knew it was fresh because it had barely started to heal. I could usually heal burns and cuts, even severe ones, in a matter of minutes. That was why Father had taken Uncle Max’s advice and started using the soldering irons—to see if the combination of deep tissue tears and flesh-melting burns took longer for me to repair
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    “Yes, yes, that should work.” The excitement in Father’s voice startled me. My stomach automatically lurched. If he was happy, it meant that whatever new means of torture he had been working to perfect was about to be tested. On me
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    Father looked down on me again, watching me. The sadistic anticipation on his face made bile rise in my throat. I swallowed it down and braced myself. Four other faces appeared around him, and I now recognized each of my brothers and uncles. Even Uncle Max was there. The feeling of dread quadrupled. Uncle Max was busy these days. He would only have taken the time to watch if it was going to be especially horrific
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    My brother Malcolm, now at Father’s side, handed him a clunky remote control. Malcolm looked down on me with a gleam in his eye that matched Father’s exactly. Markus was sandwiched between my uncles. I didn’t have to read his mind to know that he was just happy it wasn’t him in the tank. Our eyes met for only a moment before he looked away. Such a coward
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    Uncle Max looked at his watch. “I have a meeting at four,” he drawled. Father scowled at him
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    “You’re not going to want to miss this,” he said. “Trust me.”
    All eyes were on me again. I held my breath. Father pushed a large yellow button on the remote. Water sprinkled down on me. I flinched when the first drop touched my skin. Father’s deep chuckles from above echoed in the tank around me
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    The drops of water sped up as Father made adjustments on his remote. It felt like real rain now—a fast, sharp rain that stung a little with impact. Uncle Max yawned
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    Then Father handed the remote back to Malcolm. His face went eerily blank. His eyes dilated so completely that any color his irises had was lost behind the empty ink of his pupils. His skin tightened. His features went completely devoid of emotion. His mask was complete
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    This is it
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    The sharp coolness of the downpour mutated into a burning wetness. A spasm of screams wrenched from my chest. My eyes clamped shut. Pain pierced through my senses. Like my entire body was being peeled away, one fiery piece of flesh at a time
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    The fire rain remained clear, looking every bit as normal as a spring shower. But as the liquid made contact with my skin, it instantly scorched circles into the flesh. Each burn spread, deeper and wider, until the edges of one burn wound met with another. Within minutes I could see cartilage where the liquid burrowed past flesh and muscle
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    And the tank was starting to fill. I could no longer hear my own screams. My feet were nearly covered in the pool of acidic rain. The flesh melted away, exposing tendons and bone. And when I looked down, thick chunks of my face fell into my lap. My lungs stopped working; the burning broke through my chest. In one final act of defiance, I forced my melting eyes to my father. Encompassing pleasure spread across his face. Then