The brother had retrieved Korak’s knife. Stood only a few paces away. Watching the pain heaving through muscle in Korak’s surprised body. Impatient. Itching to get it over with. But making himself wait. Watching the hard-muscle stomach pulsate as it gasped in air. Willing to let the realisation seep into the apeboy’s guts. The truth .. he was done-for. He was going to pay.
“Forget it ….,” he sneered.
His hand was clutched keenly tight on Korak’s blade. Korak watched warily, he knew its sharpness.
“ …. thinking you’d beat me in a fight …..”
Korak had every reason to fear that knife clutched in this brother’s hand. He’d fashioned it himself.
“ … beat me .. get away …..”
The brother’s wrist was nervously swishing from side-to-side. The blade caught the light with every twist.
“Or maybe you think … when I am taking you back home .. you think you grab some chance and get away?”
He snorted. His head shook. Closing down all the options. The knife flashed.
“This ends here.”
He approached. Despite himself, knowing he should be standing up to her brother .. Korak’s eyes were on the glistening sharpness of the blade. It touched. The tip of the knife made contact with his skin. Just below his navel. Muscle automatically flexed. Pulled in.
“My father seeks one thing ….. One thing only.”
His eyes scoured Korak’s taut torso. Strung under the branch. Muscled, a young man’s pride in his strength. Now trapped, every muscle on edge.
“The rest of …….”
The knife swished around. Indicating the muscular power of Korak’s captive body.
“THIS …… this of no interest.”
The point of the knife had returned. Touching Korak’s navel. But the brother’s eyes scoured Korak from the head down. Hate-filled their eyes met. Sliding down. Taking in the muscled shoulders. Scouting over the hard-packed power of Korak’s broad chest. And down through the ladder of muscle in his belly till his gaze met the knife point.
“All THIS …. This stays here.”
Korak sucked in his belly. Feeling the knife point moved. Slowly it travelled upwards. Up between the first pair of muscles .. passing through the defined cleft in his belly.
“One thing only he desires. My father. HER father.”
The knife point applied a slight pressure. Korak sucked in harder. Nervous but knowing not to show it. The tensed muscle of his belly flexed stronger. Though he knew muscle could never stand up against the sharpness of his knife.
Nervous as hell, Korak sucked in harder still. He’d felt the tip of the blade moved. Travel upwards .. up through the cleft between the muscles in his belly that he was flexing like mad. Like he’d persuaded himself that rock-hard muscle there still had a chance. Anxiously he wondered .. Had that move drawn blood? It hadn’t gone in deep, he knew. But were there trickles of blood running down his belly? But he couldn’t look. Engaged in a manly battle of looks. The brother scoring Korak’s eyes to find fear. Korak could not show him that. Hiding his nerves in a fight for domination of will.
“In its most potent state, my father said.”
The brother stared coldly into Korak’s defiant gaze.
“Those were my father’s words. To atone for his crime. For the dishonour.”
The eyes were chilling, intense. Korak felt a shiver rushed down his backbone. At the determination he read in that look. The strength of mind to do him harm.
“To atone. YOUR crime.”
The knife had stopped. Just below Korak’s ribcage. He felt a slight pressure. As if marking the spot. Then suddenly the prick of sharpness was gone.
“A heart still beating. That’s what he desires. Still beating. Most potent. This heart wrenched from this body .. still alive.”
Korak twitched. At feeling the knife back again. Now back on his belly button. Slowly moving back upwards. As if marking the knife wound. As if slicing his belly open. From navel to ribs. Marking the path. Up the lethal knife-point moved.
“Cut from here ……”
The brother scowled.
“To here …..”
Korak felt the slight pressure back under his ribcage again.
“Cut open. Still alive.”
His breath was hot on Korak’s skin.
“Rip it out. That damned offending heart. Still beating.”
The brother’s eyes were sadistically cold. Chilling.
“A father’s desire.”
Korak’s belly was stone-hard, resisting. Pulled in taut. Muscles tight. With the point of his own dangerously sharp knife pressed against his gut.
“Tear out that damned heart. A father’s fervent wish. Ripped out. Still beating. Ripped out of the apeboy’s gut.”
The brother hissed.
“To atone for his evil crime.”