"AAAAAA-A-A-A-AH!" her scream did not cease, turning into a continuous, hysterical howl. She beat her head against the polyethylene, her eyes rolled back, showing the whites.
"I see you like it?" Ming You hissed right into her ear, beginning short, sharp thrusts. Each movement tore her from the inside, spilling new gushes of blood.
"You fucking bastard!!! Bitch! Sick fuck!" So Ho was no longer pleading. He was spewing the filthiest, most vile curses he knew.
Tears streamed down his face in rivers, mixing with blood from his nose and saliva. He saw his sister's body convulsing under Ming You's body, how the scarlet fluid gushed from her. He saw her face, distorted by inhuman torment. His own mind desperately tried to find salvation in madness, but even madness seemed to refuse to accept such a reality. He felt his own will, his personality, his "self" dissolving in this sea of pain and horror, leaving behind only a pulsating, raw wound where his soul used to be.
Ming You, with one hand still holding her wrists, reached for the discarded knife with the other. He picked it up without stopping his sadistic thrusts. He placed the cold blade against her thigh, right next to the flowing wound, where the skin was especially thin and delicate.
"Watch, brother," he said theatrically, not looking at So Ho. "Watch how art is born."
And with light pressure, unhurriedly, he drew the blade across her skin. The skin resisted at first, then yielded with a quiet, silky sound of a "shhh-it". The cut turned out perfectly even, about ten centimeters long. First, the white subcutaneous tissue showed, and then, as if not believing its release, bright scarlet blood lashed out from the depth of the cut. Not oozing — it lashed out, with force, a thin, pulsating stream that beat rhythmically, in time with his thrusts and her wildly pounding heart. The blood splattered onto his trouser leg, onto her stomach, onto the floor.
So Yeon seemed to be already unable to scream from the pain in her lower abdomen, but this new, sharp, cutting fire on her thigh forced her to make a new sound — a hoarse, gurgling one, turning into a silent scream. Her eyes, full of tears and terror, met her brother's eyes. In that gaze was everything: farewell, apology, unbearable pain, and a silent question, "why?"
"AAAAH!!!" So Ho's cry was no longer a cry, but some kind of strained, throat-tearing sound, more like the roar of a wounded beast.
He lunged again, and this time a distinct, nightmarish crunch was heard — the bone in his dislocated shoulder gave way and broke. Wild, blinding pain pierced him, but it was nothing compared to what he saw. He began to hiccup, convulsively shuddering with his whole body. His psyche was breaking like fragile glass. The picture before him began to fragment, disintegrate into pixels. He no longer saw his sister, but just bloodied flesh. Not Ming You, but a moving shadow. His consciousness tried to shut down, but the tape on his eyelids and the adrenaline in his blood wouldn't let it happen. He was nailed to this spectacle, forced to consume every second of it.
Ming You accelerated his movements. Now his thrusts became deeper, harsher. With one hand, he released her wrist and grabbed her breast, squeezing it with such force that her nails dug into her own palm, and purple, bloody crescents were left on the delicate skin of her breast. With his other hand, still gripping the knife, he began to make new cuts. Shallow, careful, as if making a tattoo.
Lines on her other thigh, on her buttock, on her side. Each time the blade bit in, So Yeon shuddered with her whole body, emitting short, hoarse cries. Blood oozed from the new wounds, mixing with the one that streamed from the main cut on her thigh and from between her legs. The entire lower part of her body, once so beautiful, was now a bloody mess, a continuous wound. The smell became unbearable — the smell of blood, sweat, fear, and something else, warm and organic, that was coming out of her along with the blood.
Then he started hitting her. Not with his fist, but with the handle of the knife. Dull, heavy blows rained down on her ribs, her stomach, her chest. A muffled, gurgling sound was heard. So Yeon almost didn't react anymore; only her body convulsively shuddered with each blow.
"AGHHH!!! AAAAAH!!!!"
"Quieter," he muttered, continuing his work.
Finally, with a sharp, convulsive thrust, he finished. He froze for a moment, then pulled his bloodied member out of her. A new wave gushed from the torn, gaping vagina — now thick, dark, almost black, with lumps and clots.
So Yeon's body lay completely still, except for the fine tremors that passed through it in waves. Her eyes were open, but her gaze was empty, fixed on the ceiling. She was still alive, but there was nothing left of that cheerful, strong girl from the court. All that remained was a broken, mutilated shell, slowly bleeding out in a huge, scarlet puddle that now occupied a good half of the center of the room. The puddle pulsated, reflecting the red light, as if it had its own, sinister heartbeat.
Ming You, breathing heavily, pulled up his pants, not paying attention to the fact that they immediately became soaked with blood. He walked over to his backpack, bent down, and rummaging inside, pulled out an old, rusty pair of pliers with handles wrapped in electrical tape.
He returned to So Yeon. She was still lying on her back. He roughly turned her onto her side, then put her on her knees. Her body went limp, her head fell onto her chest. Ming You grabbed her hair from behind with one hand, pulling her head back, and with his other hand squeezed her nose, cutting off her air supply.
For the first few seconds, she didn't react. But then her lungs, accustomed to shallow, intermittent breaths, began to demand air. Her mouth reflexively opened, her lips, smeared with blood, parted.
At that moment, Ming You inserted the cold, rusty jaws of the pliers into her mouth. He felt for a front upper incisor, white and sharp, still untouched, and squeezed the handles.
A sound rang out that even made Ming You's eyebrow twitch for a moment. It wasn't just a crunch. It was a low, grinding, wet sound of breaking bone mixed with squelching and some nasty click. The tooth didn't just fall out. It crumbled, ripped out with a part of the gum. Dark blood gushed from the fresh, bloody socket in her mouth, immediately flooding her tongue, lips, rushing down her throat. So Yeon, choking, coughed, but the cough was weak, gurgling. Splashes of blood and shards of enamel flew from her mouth.
"AGHHH… KHHH…" the sound that escaped her throat was like a death rattle.
Ming You worked without a shadow of doubt. Incisor after incisor, tooth after tooth. Each new crunch, each new fountain of blood, each new, weakening, shuddering convulsive jerk of her body was music to his ears. He tore out teeth not only from the front but also from the side, from the depths of her mouth. Sometimes the pliers slipped, tearing her lip or cheek, leaving ragged, bleeding wounds.
Soon, her mouth ceased to be a mouth. It was a bloody, shapeless hole, studded with bone fragments and dark, pulsating holes. Blood flowed from it in a continuous stream, flooding her chin, neck, chest, merging with the huge puddle beneath her.
So Ho was no longer making sounds. He sat, chained to the pipe, and watched. But there was no more awareness in his eyes. His mind, unable to bear the load, had finally retreated, leaving behind a catatonic stupor. His eyes were wide open, but his gaze was glassy, unseeing. Saliva mixed with blood dripped from his chin. He was quietly rocking back and forth, like a child soothing himself. Inside him remained only an infinite, white, humming void. He had broken. Finally and irrevocably.
When Ming You, with a slight effort, pulled out the last molar, a particularly loud, juicy squelch was heard. He tossed the bloodied pliers aside. They hit the wall with a dull thud, leaving a scarlet splatter on the polyethylene.
He lowered his pants again and approached So Yeon, who was now barely breathing, only her chest rising almost imperceptibly. With one hand, he pinched her nose again, and with the other, aimed his member, still sticky with her blood and his semen, into that terrible, bloodied hole that had once been her mouth. He entered it. Bones, tooth fragments, ragged edges of wounds — everything creaked and crunched. He made several slow, deep movements. His face remained focused, as if he were doing the most important work of his life. After a few thrusts, he shuddered, his body tensed, and he jerked back.
Just at that moment, So Ho, driven by some deep, residual instinct, jerked his head. Part of the tape, soaked with tears and sweat, peeled off. He could move his head. He slowly turned it and stared at Ming You. But there was no hatred or fear in his gaze. There was absolute, bottomless nothingness.
Ming You, adjusting his pants, met that gaze. For the first time all night, something other than cold calculation flickered across his face. A slight, barely perceptible disappointment.
"Well," he said quietly, almost with regret. "You couldn't save your little sister. But at least you managed to partly save yourself. Quite the egoist, aren't you? Broke down before the finale."
He pulled his member out of her mangled mouth. So Yeon slumped face-first right into the puddle of her own blood, semen, and bodily fluids. One last, bubbling stream flowed from her destroyed mouth, mixing with the general mass.
Ming You walked over to his bag. He took out a bottle of bleach, several huge, black construction debris bags, and a roll of fresh polyethylene. He looked at So Ho, who was still staring blankly into space, quietly rocking.
"Until the next game, So Ho," Ming You said without emotion and began unrolling the new roll of polyethylene, preparing for the cleanup, for erasing all traces except those that remained forever in the mind of the broken youth and in the dead eyes of his sister.