Candy reached for something on the metal stand.
Her body was semi-relaxed now that Scar wasn't in the room and she mumbled about how lazy he was.
This was the opening I was waiting for.
Quickly, I pulled myself up and twisted my abused body around to swing my cold legs off of the metal table.
Pain flashed vividly through every nerve fiber, choking me up until the sickening urge to puke my guts out made me freeze for a whole second.
Instead of focusing on it, I clenched my jaw and swallowed down the acid forcing its way up and grabbed the computer monitor with both of my hands.
Candy heard the clatter and made a move to turn her head, but she wasn't quick enough.
Her delayed reaction was a millisecond too late.
I forcefully jerked the monitor up and dragged the cords behind me when I slammed it heavily into the side of her face.
She gave a short pained shout, raspy and high pitched, and fell forward into the metal stand.
The entire room was filled with the sounds of the instruments falling off of the metal tray, clattering loudly as it hit the tiled floor.
Candy reached her gloved hand out for a pair of surgical scissors right by her head, but I kicked it out of the way with my foot, barely missing the sharp point when my toes grazed the edge.
Then, I stepped on her hand that was still reaching for the other instruments haphazardly strewn across the cold tiled floor.
"You fucking bitch! You're not going to get out of here alive," she seethed when I slammed the monitor against her face again and received an ugly choked scream in response.
"Neither are you." I grinned gruesomely down at her.
Blood dripped down my face in rivulets and I could only imagine how monstrous I must look right now.
At my words, her unusually confident face melted into anxiety and nervousness beneath her surgical mask.
Before she could open her mouth to scream for help, I muffled her voice with a bloody towel off of the metal stand and ignored her feeble protest.
Albeit I knew the walls were rather soundproof, I didn't want to take the risk of giving Scar the chance to come back when I wasn't prepared.
"The walls are soundproof, or did you forget, Candy?" I informed with a dark chuckle, panting for breath as I spoke.
Using all of my strength, I pressed the towel tightly to Candy's face. She scratched uselessly at my arms and raked up bloody welts all along my wrist and forearm until my skin burned painfully. But I didn't care because my objective was so close to being knocked out.
Candy weakly struggled, her sharp nails scratched across my neck and chest, but I did not relent. I held the fabric onto her nose and mouth while repeatedly beating her face with the computer monitor.
"This is for trying to hurt my babies," I told her in between each beating. "This is for being a bitch...and this is for messing with my face."
The disgusting wet sounds along with the disturbing cracks of the hard plastic against her head made me want to throw up.
Yet, my heart was beating rapidly, palpitating at an exhilarating rate as I watched her uselessly struggle with a wondrous feeling of glee collecting in my chest.
I have never done anything this close to murder before, but I can see why people get high off of watching someone else struggle like this.
The feeling was rather ecstatic.
Candy choked pathetically.
She continued to scratch me until her hands trembled halfway and went limp.
I don't know if it was my blood or her blood dripping down her face now.
It collected in a puddle underneath her head, but she wasn't dead because her chest was still rising and falling with every labored breath she took.
I'm sure that my beating wasn't enough to kill a sicko like her.
She didn't deserve to die that easily.
From what I could tell, she might have a concussion or two, but she won't die.
An ugly frown blossomed on my face at the thought, and I turned my gaze to the metal trays where the sharp scalpels laid covered in my blood.