Every time I blink, all I can see is the bloodied, severed limbs of Lukas and Arendt. It's not that I feel bad, per se, but it was a truly grotesque image. Do I think that it was overboard? Yes, yes I do. Was it kinda awesome? Yes, most certainly, yes.

That doesn't mean that Anti doesn't freak me out, anymore. Just because we had one cool experience together doesn't mean that he's off my list of people to avoid. He'll probably still try to torture me at any given chance, which is why I won't give him any. I can have fun, but I refuse to let my guard slip for even an instant.

Later, I head to bed. Initially, I'm pleased to find that there's no uneasiness in the quiet of the night. Then, I feel cold, black, shadowy tendrils reach out and drag me into the darkness of my subconscious.

When I open my eyes, I've been placed on a pile of severed arms. Some look fresh and newly chopped. Others look bluish and stiff. I gag, nearly retching on the heap of bloodied pieces. Gingerly, I climb down, trying to touch as little as possible.

"Anti, what the hell?" I whisper. "That's not scary – That's just disgusting."

I shudder and continue to walk away from the pile. The floor is made of some kind of metal, consisting of panels layered over each other to create a walkway. After stepping on a loose panel, I jump back, just moments before the floor in front of me gives. Squares of jagged metal fall into a yawning bottomless pit.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I take another step back. Then, there's a great tremor that shakes the ground beneath me. More tiles begin to fall, and eventually the one I stand on plummets, too.

Instead of falling into the never-ending abyss, I collapse into a wooden chair. Chains wrap themselves tightly around my wrists and ankles, pulling them behind me. A few tugs informs me that they won't come loose, any time soon.

From the darkness in front of me, a voice attracts my attention:

"As much as I love torturing people with you..."

Anti emerges from the shadows, as if drapes had been drawn back to reveal him.

"...I really should go back to the basics once in a while – torturing you."

With "you", he points the tip of a large knife in my direction. I tense, knowing that the next few moments will be unbelievably painful. Along with the nervous apprehension, however, is a bit of annoyance – no – anger.

What does he learn from this nightmare – that I dislike being stabbed? Well, no shit. I find severed arms disgusting? Whoop-dee-doo, show him what he's won. This isn't even a punishment. At least the other ones had purpose.

So, because of this anger, I give the demon a glare as he moves forward. His response is to smile back. Anti's smile, though, is different. It's not as chaotic as it usually is, like he's been reigned in a bit.

"What's that look for?" he asks. "You seem disappointed."

"Yeah, I am, a little bit," I respond, truthfully. "This nightmare has no point. Go ahead and stab me. Neither of us really get anything out of it."

"I'll get your fear," the demon replies.

I give him a dry laugh. It echoes through the room. "Sorry to burst your bubble, bud, but no, you really won't." Anti seems perplexed for a moment, so I continue:

"Sure, I'll be in pain, but I won't really be afraid. This is just you hurting me. I'm not scared, you don't learn anything – It's a lose-lose situation. Not to mention that I've already been impaled multiple times, so I already know what's coming."

Anti glowers, gripping the knife more tightly. In an instant, he's reappeared in front of me. His arm shoots out and grabs me from my seat, chains loosening and dropping to accommodate (I make note of that in the back of my mind). The man's hand closes around my throat, blocking off my oxygen. I don't flinch, but remain tense.

Letting my eyes glide from Anti's glowing eyes to my feet dangling above the floor, I realize that my legs are in the perfect position to deliver a solid kick to his chest. I quickly flit my eyes back up to his, finding that he hadn't noticed the discrepancy in eye contact.

"You're leaving yourself wide open," I mention, voice a bit raspy from his tight grip on my neck.

"And why would you try to fight back now? You've never done it before," he reasons.

"Why'd you make this useless nightmare?" I retort.

With that, I swing my legs forward and the balls of my feet connect with his solar plexus. Anti lets go of me, and I drop to the ground, relishing every molecule of air in my lungs. The demon has stumbled back, growling in pain. Though I could try to escape, where would I go? He owns this place.

Before I can contemplate what to do from the position I've put myself in, an unholy pain rips through the middle of the right side of my torso, shooting up into the bottom of my chest. Then, it slashes back down and to my left. I'm on my knees, beginning to shake. Another horrific pain claws through the middle, re-outlining the "A" in my torso. It's burning brighter than it ever has before, now an alarming candy red. A final, unrivaled feeling emblazons the letter, causing my vision reduce to static. My mind clouds, and I'm beyond the point of crying out or screaming. I can't feel anything but the tormenting sensation.

I think I'm on the ground. Still, these are only guesses.

"Don't ever do that again," Anti seethes.

Even as the static behind my eyelids fades into blackness and the pain cutting through my middle wanes ever so slowly, my anger remains. I don't let Anti conquer me, or strike fear in my mind.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter of "Plaything" as much as I enjoyed writing it. Comments and votes are super appreciated. Thanks for reading! ~Blue